The L World Part One: Lovers and Friends
by idontlikegravy
Summary: Multifandom Crossover. After the events of Endgame, Duncan has secluded himself in a monastery that is until he gets an unexpected visitor. He returns to the world and meets some new Immortals and some old friends...
1. The Light

**The L World**

Welcome to the weird and wonderful L World. Absolutely nothing to do with 'The L Word' this is a crossover 'verse, where I realised that I had titled my stories beginning with L. This trend may or may not continue, depends on how imaginative I'm feeling. The stories are all grounded in the Highlander universe initially, then crossing into other shows. Any timeline errors are deliberate or because I'm not that familiar with the show, so sorry. Also, I know how irritating glaring errors of continuity can be, so I've tried to do my best, but if the pesky continuity pixies have struck, there's not much I can do about it, sorry. The story is set in the now, after the events of Highlander Endgame, but will not include anything that may occur in the new film 'The Source' as it is set in a parallel world. There is one rather major plotline that makes this an alternative Highlander universe, but you'll have to read this first story to see why, I'm not about to give anything away.

This whole thing started out just for me, as an act of closure. Then I had an idea for a really funny scene so I wrote the second story. Then I saw they could be connected. Then it snowballed to what is currently monumental proportions and is rapidly becoming epic.

Thanks to my sis for reading the first draft.

Disclaimer: I don't own Highlander or any of the characters of Highlander, and I'm not making any money out of them, I'm just doing this for the love of the shows involved. All rights and ownership belong to Davis/Panzer and Rysher Entertainment and anyone else who actually owns them, I'm just trying them on for size and I promise to return them good as new.

Warning: This story contains a non-graphic same sex relationship, so don't read it if that sort of thing offends.

Rating PG

1. The Light

Duncan returned to his cell after main meal, as he almost always did. He had come to the monastery to be in seclusion on holy ground, not for prayer. As he did nearly every night, he knelt on the floor of his cell and let the guilt and despair wash over him.

He had lost so much in recent times, too much for anyone to bear, even an Immortal, even one such as Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. First Tessa, shot in a random street crime. His fault. Fitz, killed because of that bastard Kalass. His fault. Sean Burns. Although he accepted that was partially due to the Dark Quickening, he still felt guilt about all of his actions during that time, most of all the death of Sean, who had only tried to help him. Richie. Richie's death had almost broken him. That was definitely his fault. He had retreated from the world after the death of his protégée, and it was only the intervention of Joe and Methos and his sense of duty to defeat Ahriman that had brought him back from the brink. But he was hollow then, nothing really bringing him back to himself.

When he thought that Connor had died, he had something to live for, to investigate and avenge him. But then he wasn't dead and … That wasn't his fault, but he kept going over it again and again, wondering if there could have been something he could have done, some way to have defeated Jacob Kell without killing Connor. But at least he had Kate(?) to bring him through that.

And now she was dead too. Taken from him on their wedding day, as she had been all those years before. The gypsy's curse echoed through his mind day and night "You will love many women, MacLeod, but you will never marry!" He hadn't listened when he proposed to Tess, and she had been taken from him. He didn't listen again when he asked Kate to renew their vows, and she had been challenged only hours before the ceremony. Hate and thirst for vengeance had once again quashed all grief, all rational thought, until he had taken the head of the other Immortal, but then it had overcome him, as though all the grief that he had been keeping inside since Tessa had burst forth, washing away all his strength in one terrible tidal wave.

The Buzz shook him from his reverie and he turned to see one of the monks in the doorway of his cell.

"I'm sorry to disturb your prayer Brother MacLeod, but you have a visitor."

"A visitor, this late?"

"He said it was most urgent he speak with you. He's one of us."

Methos, thought Duncan as he rose and followed the monk to the vestry. So the old devil has finally tracked me down. I wonder what's so important that he would look for me? Well, it doesn't matter. Whatever it is, I'm nobody's champion anymore. I'm not sure I ever was.

As he entered the vestry, the visitor's back was toward him, but he could see immediately it wasn't Methos. The frame was different, and the stance, but yet there was something so familiar about him too. As he approached he felt the all too familiar Buzz and the other Immortal turned to greet him. Duncan stopped, mid-stride, and stared in amazement.

"Hi Mac."

"Richie?!"

"I really have no idea why I'm alive Mac. Best I've been able to figure out is that when you defeated Ahriman, it released my quickening back to my body. There are vague references in some of the ancient texts to a reward for the Champion, to him having his 'sins' taken away. We guessed that at the time you defeated Ahriman, the 'sin' you felt worst about was me. I don't pretend to understand it but it's the only idea that makes any sense that Methos and I could come up with."

"Methos? You've spoken to Methos?"

"Only since you came here. I was trying to find you, trying to make sense of it. He and Joe and Amanda have been helping me … recover."

"Recover?"

Richie pulled down the collar of his turtle-neck to reveal a slowly fading scar. A scar that formed a perfect ring around his neck.

"O god, Richie…I'm…"

"Hey, Mac, don't sweat it, I've had ten years to get past this. I've completely forgiven you. At least I didn't end up like Kalass right? Besides, I always did like turtle-necks." So like Richie to make a bad joke. Duncan could almost believe it, if he wasn't so unsure of himself, if he hadn't had so many tricks played on him. "I woke up and it was dark. My throat was killing me, and my head felt like the worst hangover in history. I think at that point the wound was still open and I bled out. I died and revived, maybe ten times before I felt vaguely human again. I guess that was my body trying to heal a wound I was never supposed to recover from. Plus I'd been in the ground a year before I came back, so I guess I had started to…"

"decompose.." whispered Duncan. A shadow passed over the young man's face, briefly showing the harrowing times the boy had been through. He nodded and then continued.

"Then I realised where I was and blind panic set in." Duncan was mortified as he realised that Richie had woken in the dark confines of his coffin. "I'm just glad Joe had the mortician stitch my head back on so neatly, or I might still be dead." Richie said this at the look on Duncan's face, a joke in an attempt to ease the tension of the moment. It didn't work, so he ploughed on with his explanation. "After the panic subsided I tried to punch my way out, but it was a lead lined casket, so I kept breaking my hand. I let it heal, and then began again. Eventually, after I don't know how long, I finally broke through and dug my way to the surface. By some weird miracle of chance I broke through on the day that Amanda came to visit my grave." Richie chuckled "Man you should have seen the look on her face! I thought she was going to faint, but instead I did. I woke up in her bed, and she made some joke about me always fantasising about doing that." He chuckled at the memory. "I was pretty weak, she told me it had been two years since you… since I died, so all my muscles had atrophied. She nursed me back to health, slowly and painfully. It was about a year before I could walk again and then I had to get back in the Game, so I spent another two years training and getting back to the level of fitness I was at before. Amanda found out that Joe had my sword buried with me so she helped me go back to the graveyard to get it from my coffin. Then I tried to find you. I looked in Paris and in Seacouver, then I tracked down Joe and Methos but they didn't know where to find you either, they hadn't seen you since Connor... Not very professional for your Watcher, I must say. I thought it would be easier to wait for you to come back, I figured you would, sooner or later, so Joe and Methos helped me look into the myths surrounding Ahriman to try and figure out what had happened."

Duncan couldn't believe all this; it was too much to take in. Could this really be Richie, back from the dead? No Immortal had ever returned from a beheading, it wasn't possible. But there he was, and there was the scar. If only he had some proof it was really him. But that wasn't what he asked, maybe because the part of him that wanted to believe didn't want to offend Richie, maybe because he wanted this to play out before he confirmed his suspicions.

"How exactly did you find me? I made sure that nobody could trace me."

"We couldn't. About six months ago a guy came around, a head hunter, figured I was an easy mark because I'd been out of the Game so long. He was wrong, but he liked to taunt me, said that the last head he'd taken belonged to someone who'd been here, and that you were, and I quote, 'cowering in a monastery like a little girl'. After I took his head I did some checking and I've spent the last few months going from monastery to monastery looking for you. I must have seen half the globe trying to find you. I tried Paris first, and then all the Buddhist monasteries, this was nearly the last place I thought to look. Finally I found you!" Richie saw the look on his face "Hey, what's the matter big guy? Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Yeah, I am, but…"

"You're still not sure it's me? I get that, why shouldn't you be suspicious? What if I told you something only we would know?" He waited for Mac's assent, trying to think of something that would convince him of the truth. He knew this would happen, as it had happened with Joe and Methos. Amanda had been the only one not to require convincing because of what she witnessed, the state he had been in when he rose from the grave. Still it took him a moment to think of the right story. He contemplated a light-hearted anecdote, perhaps the conversation they had had about racing starships in four hundred years time. Then he remembered something more personal. "Mikey… after you took the head of Tyler King, Mikey told us what happened to Alan and Ellen … you convinced me that there was only one option. You were going to do it, but I stopped you and I walked Mikey into the tunnel… When I drew my sword, he realised what was happening, but he didn't run… instead he lay down on the tracks so the oncoming train would do it for me…" Richie couldn't stop himself shedding a tear over the memory of the innocent Immortal's death. He looked up to see that Duncan too was crying, and the Scot grabbed him and pulled him close into a hug. He held him for ages, the two of them sobbing and saying so much without words, saying everything that was needed, until finally there were no more tears to cry. Duncan held on for a few minutes more, not wanting to ever let him go again, Richie, his friend, his brother, his son in all but blood.

"I thought I'd lost you. I thought I'd lost everything."

"Hey, it takes more than a little beheading to get rid of me. I didn't think you'd get so mushy big guy. I knew I should have told the one about racing starships." Richie grinned, that same old grin, and it made Duncan smile for the first time in years.

"Always the tough guy, eh Richie?" They both smiled at the use of their old nicknames for each other.

"I love the hair by the way, short is a good look for you."

Duncan smiled sheepishly; he had originally cut off his hair in a gesture of mourning and penance after he had killed Richie. It was a common ritual in the three cultures he held most dear, his own Highland roots, the Samurai tradition and the beliefs of his adopted Sioux family. "I fancied a change."

"So, you ready to leave here now?"

"Maybe. I don't know though. I've been out of the Game for three years now."

"Well, at least walk me to my bike."

"You're not going to stay here?"

"Now that I know you're here, I'm tempted… but, I've already paid for a room in a hotel, and given the choice between four star luxury and a monk's cell..." They both chuckled at that. Same old Richie. "I'll come back in the morning if you like."

"Ok. Sure, I'll walk out with you." They walked out of the monastery toward the main gate, chatting amicably about old times, as if nothing had changed, as though the years since they last saw each other had just melted away. It felt good to Mac. Perhaps it was time to rejoin the world. He noticed they had left the grounds and still hadn't reached Richie's bike. "Why'd you park so far away Rich? We're well off holy ground here."

"I know." Something in Richie's tone made him turn, just in time to duck to avoid Richie's swipe at his head.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What do you think? You've tried to do it to me enough. Do you really think I could forgive you so easily? Did you think we were even? Three times you tried to kill me Mac, three times. I guess third time was the charm huh? Well let's see how you like it."

"Richie… No, please" Duncan spotted a fallen branch, and rolled towards it, picking it up in time to parry Richie's next blow. "I'm begging you, don't do this."

"Begging? That's not like you Mac, the great Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."

"I'm not doing it for my sake, Richie, you probably do deserve to take my head, I'm saying it for your sake. Killing me like this would send you down a path you don't want to walk."

He took another swipe at Duncan, missing by inches and taking off the end of the log. Duncan dropped the useless weapon and lunged at Richie, coming close to remove the advantage of the armed man. With one swift move he disarmed him and pointed the blade at Richie's neck. He pulled back a little when he saw his young friend was smiling, but he was still on guard.

"Now we're even Mac. I think you're ready to rejoin the world, and the Game, don't you?"

"You sneaky little…You've been around Methos too long." Duncan said. Richie grinned as an exasperated Duncan returned his sword. "I'll meet you here in the morning and we can go home together." Richie hugged him and went to his bike, which was parked just off the road, out of sight. Duncan watched him ride off then returned to his cell, to pack.

Richie had arranged for the barge to be returned to its regular berth, so the two headed for Paris. They would return to Seacouver eventually, but for now they just wanted each other's company again, like it had been in the beginning of Richie's training, after Tessa… The grief tugged at Duncan again at the thought of Tessa, but it was bearable now that he had Richie back. They had both been through dark times but together they would find their way back to the light.

The weeks and months passed quickly, as the two friends just enjoyed being alive again. It was safe enough for them to be out and about, ten years had passed since Richie's racing accident so nobody would recognise him, and he was using his 'Richard Redstone' alias to be extra cautious. So, they would go to the cinema, the races, Duncan even managed to drag Richie to the ballet, and although the younger man swore 'never again' he secretly enjoyed the skill of the dancers.

When they stayed home, they chatted, they played chess. Richie had always been pretty good at the game, but Duncan was impressed with how much his game had improved.

"I didn't have much to do but read and play board games during that first year. Amanda didn't even have a video player and my French wasn't good enough to watch TV then."

Richie had already told Duncan that he had used some of his convalescence time to improve his languages, how he now spoke German, French and Italian reasonably fluently. The two often conversed in these languages for practice, and for fun. "It helped to keep busy, stopped me focussing too much on the pain." Richie had told him. Whether he had meant the physical pain or emotional, Duncan didn't know. Richie probably meant both. He explained that he studied a correspondence course in business, and then in computing, and, once he was physically capable, had immersed himself in his training, spending three or four hours a day going through kata and practising sword moves. Since their return to Paris, the two had trained together, moving through kata and fencing, and Duncan was impressed by Richie. He was even better than Duncan remembered; perhaps almost as good as himself in certain elements. Perhaps better in some, he thought a little grudgingly, and then berated himself for the thought. "The pupil surpasses the teacher." He thought aloud.

"Huh?" said Richie

"Nothing, Rich. Nothing." He smiled as he remembered the second conversation he had ever had with Rich. It had been at the police station after Richie had broken into the store, and the youngster had said he was a fast learner. "Fast but lazy." Richie had said. Well, mused Duncan, I guess he got over the lazy part.

About eight months later they were walking along the Seine, heading back to the barge, arms laden with the ingredients for a feast that Duncan was preparing for Richie's birthday. Richie had only agreed after Duncan agreed to celebrate his 'unbirthday' with him, since the Scot no longer remembered when his birthday was, or at least refused to tell Richie. The two of them were laughing about the last time they had got really drunk together when they felt the Buzz. As they looked around for the source, they both lay down the groceries and reached into their coats for their swords. A figure stepped from the shadows of a nearby bridge, sword drawn and pointed at Richie.

"Richie Ryan I presume."

"Hm, I guess he's after me then. Sorry big guy." he said conspiratorially to Mac, then louder to his challenger, "I am, and you are?"

"Your destiny."

"Oh brilliant, a drama queen. Well if we're going to do this, can we get it over with please? It's my birthday, and I don't want to waste it fighting you."

"If you are in such a rush to die." Richie stepped forward, but Duncan held out his arm to stop him.

"Oh Mac, I'm a big boy now. I don't need you to protect me anymore, remember?"

"Okay" came the reply, "I was actually just going to say that I'll go back and start cooking so don't be long."

"Oh. Sorry."

"If you two love birds have quite finished?" Richie drew himself into a starting position, as Mac picked up the groceries and headed back to the barge. As he walked along the bank, he could hear the clash of swords echo all around him, bouncing back off the underside of the bridge. Despite what he had told Richie, he was worried, of course he was. He didn't doubt Richie's ability, but you never knew if a stranger was better than you, or if they might get lucky. He had only just got him back and he didn't want to lose him again. He stopped as he realised the sound of metal had stopped and turned back to see flashes of light. He waited, for what seemed forever, trusting that it would be Richie, but ready if it wasn't. There was a bend in the river, so he felt the victor's presence before he could see him.

"That better be you Mac, I am not in the mood for another fight to spoil my birthday." Duncan inwardly gave a huge sigh of relief.

"Hurry up Rich, these bags are heavy."

A few days later, the two of them were taking a stroll, enjoying the warm Paris sunshine. "Let's go home Rich."

"Yeah, sure, we're heading back to the barge anyway."

"No. I mean home. Back to Seacouver. Let's see if there's enough of the dojo left to salvage the business. And Joe and Methos must be wondering what happened to you."

Richie laughed. "I hadn't even thought of that. I guess I should have told them I found you. But do me a favour first, yeah?"

"What? Anything."

"Well Seacouver is my home town, but I've never seen yours. Take me to Glenfinnan, let me see Loch Shiel. Show me where you grew up."

Duncan looked at his young friend, slightly surprised by the request. "Of course I will."

They flew to Edinburgh on the next available flight and then drove the rest of the way in a rental. Duncan was slightly concerned that the local publican might remember him from his previous visit. It had been a long time since he had seen Rachel, but they had been intimate, and well, things might be…awkward. She had kind of accepted that he was the same Duncan MacLeod of legend, but he had never given her an explanation, and seeing him unchanged after more than a decade might require one. His concerns were unfounded however, Rachel was away and nobody else in the village recognised anything other than two more 'damned American tourists'. That suited Duncan as the locals generally ignored the tourists and it meant he could take Richie to all his childhood haunts.

They rode out each day, having leased a couple of hunters from a local stable. Once again Duncan was impressed by his friend's skill, astounded by how much he had learned in the intervening years. From the way he handled a horse, one could imagine that he was from a time when horses were the only available transport, and he said as much.

"Wow, thanks Mac. Amanda taught me, and I loved it so much I've tried to ride as often as possible. Still doesn't quite beat the thrill of going a hundred and twenty round a track, but it's a close second." They both laughed and spurred their horses on.

They were riding out across the moor, galloping along long-forgotten paths, when suddenly Duncan reined in his horse and changed direction, slowing to a trot. Richie followed, curious, but saying nothing, he had seen that look on Mac's face before and knew it was best not to question him.

Mac led him along the path a little way, then stopped and dismounted by a small stone. A headstone Richie realised, followed by the further realisation that it must belong to Debra Campbell. Duncan knelt beside the grave and tended to it, clearing away the weeds and moss so that Richie could see his assumption was correct. He dismounted and knelt beside Duncan, resting a hand on his shoulder, and the two knelt in silent prayer for all the ones they had lost.

Richie washed the soap from his face and examined himself in the mirror. He was thirty-three now, but the face that looked back at him was still barely a man. He was beginning to realise just what being Immortal meant. The only change in thirteen years was the scar around his neck, a scar that was diminishing with every Quickening. Already it was only a faint white line, which probably wouldn't be noticeable to anyone who didn't already know it was there. Good, he thought to himself, once that's gone there'll be nothing to remind Mac of what happened. Plus, I can stop wearing these damn turtle-necks, he added to himself with a wry smile.

They were back in Seacouver, just returned and recovering from slight jet-lag. Richie had slept on Duncan's couch because they had returned in the early hours and he didn't want to go to his own empty apartment. Later they would go to see Joe and Methos, but not just yet. It suddenly dawned on Richie that he didn't want to be apart from Mac, and that he still didn't want to share him with anyone, even their dear friends. Feeling his presence, he looked at Duncan in the mirror with the simple realisation that he loved this man heart and soul. He turned to face him and looked him directly in the eyes. Duncan returned his gaze, unblinking, staring at him with a white hot intensity. Richie knew that Duncan had made the same realisation as he had, and at the same instant they each took a step toward the other, closing the few feet between them. Duncan took him in an embrace as firm and fast as that at the monastery, and they kissed, ardently, rapidly, as if realising they had wasted time and they were trying to make up for all the lost kisses. Richie could feel Duncan's mouth against his, warm and soft, could feel his tongue exploring his mouth. Neither one ever thought they could feel this way with another man, but their time apart had led them down this path, and it felt so right. Duncan took the lead, gently pushing Richie toward the bed. Later they would go to see Joe and Methos, but not just yet.

Epilogue: six months later:

The phone rang out, breaking the silence of the night. Groggily, Duncan disentangled himself from Richie and leaned over the sleeping Immortal to pick up the receiver. "Hello?...Mark?...What's up? It's four in the morning….uh huh…sure thing, I can be there tomorrow…no problem." He hung up, and Richie looked at him through one sleepy eye.

"Who was that?"

"An old friend of mine. He's not one of us, but he knows about us. He's asked for my help with a case. I hope you don't mind, but I said I'd go to California to help."

"Hey, no problem. I need to take a look at the dojo books, it'll be easier without any…distractions." Duncan smiled and kissed him. He would need to buy a plane ticket in the morning, but nowhere would be open for hours yet.

The L World will continue in Part 2: Lessons

http://idontlikegravy.


	2. Lessons

**The L World**

Welcome to the weird and wonderful L World. Absolutely nothing to do with 'The L Word' this is a crossover 'verse, where I realised that I had titled my stories beginning with L. This trend may or may not continue, depends on how imaginative I'm feeling. The stories are all grounded in the Highlander universe initially, then crossing into other shows. Any timeline errors are deliberate or because I'm not that familiar with the show, so sorry. Also, I know how irritating glaring errors of continuity can be, so I've tried to do my best, but if the pesky continuity pixies have struck, there's not much I can do about it, sorry. The story is set in the now, after the events of Highlander Endgame, but will not include anything that may occur in the new film 'The Source' as it is set in a parallel world. There is one rather major plotline that makes this an alternative Highlander universe, if you've read the first story you'll know that whilst it's not swimming in Denial, it's certainly a tributary of it, if you haven't read it and don't know what Denial is, go educate yourself and then come back when you are more enlightened. I am not a member of Clan Denial, preferring to find a logical comeback instead. Events maketh the man, not clothes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Highlander or Diagnosis Murder or any of the characters of Highlander or Diagnosis Murder, and I'm not making any money out of them, I'm just doing this for the love of the show and the love of Richie. All rights and ownership belong to whichever jammy git actually owns them, I'm just trying them on for size and I promise to return them good as new.

Warning: This story contains a non-graphic same sex relationship, so don't read it if that sort of thing offends. There is also a bit of rude language, but nothing too bad.

Rating PG

2. Lessons

Mark stared into the glass of whiskey his old friend had handed him, not really seeing the amber liquid sloshing around in the glass, too lost in his own thoughts, his own guilt. "How could I get it so wrong?" he said to his companion, "I never dreamed that he would react like that. Nobody has ever done that before."

"It was going to happen sooner or later Mark," came the reply, "You keep confronting murderers the way you do, eventually one of them was going to take a shot at you."

"Yes I know, but why did Jesse…" he trailed off, wracked by sobs of guilt.

"I wouldn't worry too much about that if I were you."

Mark looked up, his friend was smiling, and it didn't make any sense. "What do you mean?" Comprehension suddenly dawned on Mark as he stared at the broadening grin on the face of his oldest friend. "Do you mean…"

Duncan beamed and nodded as he glanced at his watch. "In actual fact, I think we should be getting along to the morgue about now." He grabbed his coat and guided Mark to his feet.

"B..but why couldn't you tell me? Why did you let me go through all that?"

"I'm sorry Mark, but it was necessary that the authorities believe this to be genuine so that no questions would be asked. If I could have avoided this I would, but there were too many witnesses." Mark nodded in understanding. He could see the difficult position MacLeod was in, but he still wasn't happy about it. They drove the rest of the way to Community General in silence.

Amanda Bentley wiped back a tear as she rolled out the drawer that contained the body of her dear friend. Jesse could be so brave, stupidly so sometimes, and it was not really a surprise to her that he would one day end up on her table. No surprise, but it still broke her heart as she pulled back the sheet and prepared to make the Y-incision. Her hand paused over his chest, holding a scalpel which suddenly seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. Then, just as she steeled herself to make the cut, Jesse's eyes snapped open and he inhaled, a great loud gasp of air as though he had been drowning.

At the sound of the scream, Duncan and Mark doubled their pace and reached the coroner's room in time to see a terrified Amanda backing into a corner, pointing her scalpel in the direction of a very bemused looking Jesse, who was now sitting up on the table, trying to maintain his decency with the sheet. He looked toward the door, as if there was something attracting his attention, until he locked his gaze on Duncan, which seemed to only increase his confusion. He turned his attention to Mark, and asked "Um, …what am I doing here? And what happened after the house? I thought that I was…" He reached down to his chest, to the blood and rapidly healing bullet hole in his chest. "I don't understand."

Mark stared at his young friend with both awe and sympathy, but for once he didn't have the answers. Well, some of them, but there was somebody far better positioned to explain. He looked to Duncan, who was already making his way toward the young doctor, and headed toward Amanda to try and calm her.

"I think the best thing is to calm everyone down and get them to your house." said Duncan, "The explanations can wait till we're there."

"Ok, but I want to call Steve. He's best friends with Jess, and I don't think I could lie to my son about this." Duncan nodded in agreement and tossed some scrubs to Jesse who put them on. They walked out of the hospital via a service entrance to avoid the cameras, Amanda being held up by Mark and a determination to find out what the hell was going on here. She had a million questions for the strange Scot, who appeared to hold the answers to this impossible situation, but he had said he would explain when they reached Mark's, so until then she would bite her lip.

Mark made a quick call on his cell, asking Steve to meet them at home and they made their way back to the beach house.

Duncan ushered Jesse into the bedroom so that Mark could get Steve and Amanda comfortable and explain before Steve saw Jesse. Duncan admired how calmly the young man was taking everything. Aside from occasionally muttering "This isn't possible, I was shot." the doctor was amazingly cooperative. He showed self-assurance that came from years of knowing that Mark would provide him with the answers to everything. Duncan smiled at that, the young man reminded him a lot of Richie, in many respects. Perhaps that was partly why he decided to hang around when he first sensed the boy's Pre-Immortal status.

"Whatever's happened to me, it's happened to you too hasn't it? I… felt something when you walked into Amanda's office." Duncan started at Jesse's words, damn the kid was smart, not even Richie had cottoned on to the 'Buzz' so fast, and he had known about Immortals before he died.

"Yes Jesse, we have a connection. That was what you felt. There is a lot you need to know." Gently, Duncan began to explain everything to Jesse, about Immortals, about the Game, and about the Rules.

At the same time, a similar conversation was taking place on the other side of the wall. Mark left out the details of the Game, he didn't think that a cop and a doctor would react too well to the idea of people going round with swords chopping each others heads off, but he gave them enough information to try and understand what was going on. The pair's reaction was expected.

"This is a joke right?" said Amanda.

"Not a very good one either Dad."

"No it isn't a joke Steve. You know I wouldn't joke about something like this. You both saw Jess take a bullet to the chest, and Amanda, you saw him wake up in the morgue. I'm telling the truth."

"It is the truth Steve." At the sound of his friend's voice, Steve turned, amazed, to see Jesse standing in the bedroom doorway. "I can't quite accept it all myself yet but it is what is happening." He walked over to them and picked up a letter opener that was on the coffee table. Unsure of his intentions, Steve became alert, and when Jesse pulled the blade across his palm he leapt to his feet. He started toward him, but felt the gentle grip of his father on his shoulder.

"Wait Steve." Steve stood, mouth open, as he watched blue lightning dance across the cut and the wound heal itself. Jesse wiped the blood from his palm and there was no sign he had ever been injured.

"This is impossible." Amanda was barely audible.

"I understand your confusion Amanda. It's hard for someone trained in medicine to accept all of this." Mark said, ever the father, "I found out about Duncan over thirty years ago, and I still have trouble with it all."

Shocked by this latest revelation, everyone in the room looked, first at Mark and then at his enigmatic friend.

"I am Duncan MacCleod of the clan MacCleod, and I was born in Scotland four hundred years ago." He announced, somewhat melodramatically.

"Four hundred years?" Jesse whispered, as he collapsed back into the chair. Duncan smiled, obviously the enormity of what Immortality meant had just hit home.

A few hours later, Mac took Jesse back to his place to pack up his things. His death had been witnessed by too many people, and unfortunately the police had an official record of it. Jesse would have to leave California, at least for a while. That suited Duncan, he was missing Seacouver and he was sure that Richie would be missing him. Besides which, he mused as he put the last of Jesse's things in the trunk of his T'bird, he was missing his protégé too. And Dawson and Methos, he hastily added. It was the most time Duncan had been apart from Richie since he had found the Scot at the monastery, and they hadn't really discussed the recent changes in their relationship, changes Duncan wasn't sure he was completely comfortable with.

It had taken a while to convince Steve and Amanda that Jesse needed to leave, but eventually they saw the sense of it. Luckily, given their jobs, covering up the missing body wouldn't be difficult. Jesse had been a little harder to convince, on many levels. Although he had enough sense not to discuss the Game in front of his friends, Duncan knew that was the hardest part for Jesse to come to terms with. After all, he had spent his entire professional life so far saving lives and now, if he wanted to survive, he'd need to learn to end them.

As if he'd been reading his mind, Jesse spoke, "Mac, I know you said I need to learn the Game to survive, and I will, but what if all the teaching is for nothing? What if, when it comes down to it, I can't do it?" Duncan examined Jesse, perhaps it would be good for him to have a chat with Methos when they got to Seacouver. After all, the ancient immortal had spent a long time as a doctor, trying to make amends for his bloodthirsty youth.

"You don't change when you become Immortal, Jess." The same line he had used with Richie only a few years ago, "Some fights you can walk away from, some you can win and spare your competitor, but sometimes, if you want to live, you have to take their head. You won't know until that moment comes whether you are capable of doing it or not. But it doesn't make you a bad person, or any less of a good person."

"Yeah, well I'm still not comfortable with it Mac." Duncan shook his head and laughed inside, so much like Richie. He figured the two were going to get on really well.

Richie felt the Buzz and smiled. He knew it was Mac; he'd called about an hour ago to let him know that he was at a gas station just out of town and he'd be back with his new student soon. He left the office and walked toward the door as Mac and Jesse walked through it. Richie smiled and extended his hand toward the young stranger. "Hi, I'm Richie, you must be Jesse right? Good to meet you." Jesse shook the proffered hand and mumbled back his greeting.

"Richie was my most recent student" explained Duncan, "Still is in a lot of ways." Richie laughed at the lame joke, same old Mac, and playfully punched his mentor before giving him a much more sincere hug. As he hugged him back, all Duncan's doubts about their relationship vanished, he desperately wanted to grab him and kiss him, but the dojo was full of customers and their love was private.

"Welcome home Mac." After a pause he turned back to the newcomer "So I think Mac wants you to crash with me for a while until you can get a place of your own." Mac wondered briefly wondered just how well the two would hit it off. Duncan wasn't too concerned, as Richie really only kept an apartment as a show of independence and somewhere to go if Amanda was in town. Most nights he stayed with Mac. Plus, he berated himself, Richie wasn't interested in men generally, just Duncan. The three walked towards the elevator to Mac's apartment.

"O wow, I never even thought about stuff like that. How can I get money? If everyone thinks I'm dead, I can't access my bank accounts and I can't practice medicine. I don't know how to do anything else." They entered the elevator and Mac pulled down the door, giving them some privacy as the elevator slowly rattled up to its destination.

"Don't worry about that for now Jesse. We'll set you up with a new identity as your own cousin. Then you can get Mark or Steve to 'discover' a will naming you as the beneficiary and you'll get your money. I've got some contacts who can set you up with new documents, including a license to practice medicine. But for now your life is going to be in Richie's flat or training here. You have a lot to learn."

The next few weeks and months passed in a blur for Jesse. His days were spent learning how to wield a katana, the sword Duncan had chosen for him. He felt it was the best option to compensate for Jesse's short, slender frame. Most of the time he learnt martial arts from Duncan, but he also sparred with Richie on occasion, much to the Scot's amusement, leading him to comment once that it was "the blind leading the blind". That was a cruel joke, and he knew it. In the intervening decade since he had come back from the grave Richie had become adept at all of the disciplines he had taught him, and Jesse was a fast learner. Beneath the soft California doctor exterior beat the heart of a warrior, and Duncan knew that when the time came he would do what was needed. He walked towards the mat where the two were fencing together.

"Okay tough guys, that's enough for one day. How about you hit the showers and then we'll hit Joe's for a beer?"

"Sounds good to me Mac. Jesse?"

"Yeah, great. It'll be good to see somewhere else, even if it's another room."

"Heh. Look, I know these last few months have been tough on you, but it needed to be done. Your new papers are sorted, you have your money now, and your training is coming along well. I think you can start looking for your own place, and maybe for a job too. Mark said he'd write you some references. The name would be fake but the sentiment wouldn't."

"Really Mac? That's great. That calls for a celebration." The young doctor clapped his fellow Immortals on the back and headed for the changing room. Duncan smiled as he watched him go. Richie looked at him, enquiring.

"What are you grinning about?"

"There's a nice surprise waiting for him at Joe's. So go! Shoo!"

Richie laughed and headed after Jesse.

As the three Immortals walked into Joe's Bar, Jesse examined his surroundings. He liked the atmosphere of the place, but he couldn't help comparing it to his own Barbecue Bob's. He felt a pang of homesickness at the thought, so he wasn't surprised to see a guy who looked remarkably like Steve sitting at a table. Just my mind playing tricks, he thought. Except 'Steve' seemed to be sitting next to Mark and Amanda. And the three of them seemed to be walking toward their table.

"Surprise!" said a delighted Amanda. Jesse looked at his two fellow Immortals who were both beaming conspiratorially. He laughed and hugged each of his friends in turn. Steve bought a round of beers and they began to talk.

After an hour or so, Duncan reached over to Richie and took hold of his knee. At first, he didn't get the hint, and began caressing Mac's arm. So Mac pinched him. When Richie gave him a filthy look, Duncan rolled his eyes toward the door in an exaggerated manner. Richie winked back in an equally exaggerated way and then gave a ridiculously theatrical yawn. Luckily the others were too busy talking to notice his stupidity.

"Well, I'm bushed. We'd better get going Mac."

"Yeah you're right Rich; we've got that…that thing." He stood up, followed in short order by Richie.

"Yeah, that thing." The two wanted to give Jesse time with his friends, but they also wanted some time together. Alone time had been in precious short supply since Duncan returned with Jesse.

"Oh, well give me a sec guys and I'll come with." Jesse seemed reluctant to leave.

"No, no, I'm sure you all have lots to discuss. Goodnight everyone." Richie and Mac waved goodbye to Joe as they headed out of the bar. Mark stretched and glanced at his watch.

"My goodness, is that the time? Far too late for someone of my age to be out. Amanda, didn't you want to call the boys before they went to bed?" Mark said as he stood up.

"Oh, yes, I did. We should go back to the hotel. Jesse, it's good to see you, we'll spend the day together tomorrow okay? Goodnight." She kissed him on the forehead and the two left the bar.

"Was it something I said?"

"Don't worry about it Jess, I told them I needed to speak to you alone." The two continued to drink another two rounds, chatting about nothing in particular until Steve had enough Dutch courage to say what he had come to say. "I've really missed you Jesse."

"Aw, I've missed you too Steve."

"No Jess, I've really missed you." He was staring at Jesse just a little too intently.

"Huh? Oh! O wow, um Steve…woah." It was one of the few times that Jesse had been speechless. "I never thought. Look, there's more to this Immortal stuff. It might change how you feel." So Jesse filled Steve in on the Game. He was understandably lost for words, so they both agreed to think on what the other had said and discuss it the next evening. They parted outside the club, each walking in a different direction. Jesse walked in a daze, in turmoil over everything that had just happened. He certainly loved Steve, but did he love Steve? His thoughts were interrupted by the presence of another Immortal.

"Mac? Richie?" No answer. He drew his sword from inside his coat and tracked the source of the Buzz down an alleyway. The Immortal was a woman who looked in her late twenties, although for all Jesse knew she was far older. She stood in a fighting stance, a rapier in her hand.

"About time, newbie. Let's go."

"Oh, no. Look, we don't have to do this. I don't want to fight you."

"Oh, but I want to fight you. I've been waiting for weeks for a chance to get you away from your teachers. Think of me as an Immortal chicken hawk."

"You're a head hunter. Oh great." Reluctantly Jesse bowed to his opponent and placed himself in a defensive stance. The fight lasted what seemed forever to Jesse. They were evenly matched, each parrying the other's attack, until the woman slipped on a discarded burger wrapper. She stumbled, dropping her sword with a clatter that echoed in the narrow alleyway. Jesse brought his blade close to her throat, poised to deliver the final blow.

"Do it!" screamed the woman. "There can be only one!"

"No. I won't do it. Walk away and it ends here." The woman spat at Jesse in contempt, but he withdrew, and turned to walk away. The woman leapt to her feet, grabbing her sword and lunging at Jesse in one swift move. If she hadn't yelled as she lunged, Jesse would have lost his head. Instead he had enough warning. He dropped and rolled, instinctively bringing his sword round to parry the next blow. Except there wasn't one. Instead, there were two soft thuds and a clatter as head, body and sword hit the ground. "Oh shit. Oh shit. What have I done?" He started to back away, but before he had gone more than a few paces, lightning began to dance around the body and a strange mist was rolling down the alley from the body toward Jesse. He was hit by a bolt of lightning and all rational thought left him. All there was in that moment was the power and the pain as the woman's Quickening forced itself into him. He didn't even notice as the world around him exploded into flame. He screamed for what seemed an eternity, as the raw energy stabbed into him again and again, until it finally abated, and he dropped to his knees, exhausted.

Duncan and Richie were lounging on Mac's couch, wrapped in each other's arms as they played chess, but they moved apart as they each felt the Buzz, wary of the visitor. As the elevator began to rattle upwards, they relaxed slightly, knowing it must be Amanda or Jesse, but they still changed their positions as neither one knew about their relationship and they weren't ready for questions yet.

The door opened and a dishevelled Jesse staggered out. With a knowing glance at each other, the other two Immortals rose to their feet and helped Jesse into a chair.

"Who was it?" asked Duncan. Jesse looked at him.

"I…I don't know. O my god, I just killed someone and I don't even know her name." Richie looked at him sympathetically and laid a hand on his shoulder as Duncan went to the liquor cabinet and poured Jess a medicinal whiskey. Jesse gratefully accepted the drink. "Thanks. I didn't have a choice. I beat her, and I tried to walk away, but she came at me again. It was instinct, I… I didn't even mean to do it… I just swung to defend myself and…and…" Duncan nodded in understanding. The poor boy was obviously in shock, which was no surprise really, given he had just had his first Quickening.

"You did what was necessary. You had no choice." Richie nodded in agreement. Jesse nodded too, but more reluctantly.

"I'm not happy about it though. I took that woman's life, it goes against everything I believe in."

"Do you think Mac and I are happy about taking heads? Do we look like the type who enjoy it? You do what you have to do to survive."

"Richie's right Jess. I told you when the time came, you would know whether you could do it or not. You don't have to fight and you don't always have to take their head. But sometimes you do. I trust you to make the right decisions." Jesse shook his head. He accepted what Duncan was telling him, but it didn't help. They talked long into the wee small hours, but nothing that Mac or Richie could say helped to ease Jesse's conscience. Around sunrise, Mac made a call to Methos and asked him to come over. He may have a knack of pretending that he hadn't learned anything beyond self-preservation in five millennia, but Duncan knew that if anyone knew about squaring the Immortal life with being a doctor, it was the former Horseman.

Always one to do things in his own sweet time, Methos strolled into the dojo a couple of hours later. He disappeared downstairs with Jesse, leaving Duncan and Richie making breakfast. They went into the office and sat down.

"I don't see what you can say that Mac and Richie haven't already tried."

"How about I understand?"

"How can you understand Adam? You're not a doctor."

"Yes I am. I was a physician before this country was even discovered by Europeans." Jesse looked at him, assessing him anew. He admitted he didn't know much about Immortals, but all the older ones he knew seemed so uptight that he assumed the ever casual Adam Pierson wasn't much older than he looked. "I am older than you think. How old is something only a few know, and I'm afraid I don't know you well enough to let go of that little secret. All you need to know is that I have spent centuries healing the sick in one guise or another."

"So how can you stand taking heads?"

"You do what you must to…"

"To survive. Yeah, I know. But doctors swear an oath Adam, first do no harm. Self-preservation shouldn't overrule that." Methos nearly said, "you want to know about Hippocrates? I knew him and he wasn't all he was cracked up to be you know." But he bit his tongue, thinking it would reveal more than he wanted to. Instead he said,

"During the Korean War, I was a medic with a MASH unit. Not a surgeon, I didn't have the paperwork to operate as an MD, but a field medic. Patients started dropping like flies and nobody could figure out what the hell was wrong with them. Not until I suggested they test for bubonic plague. None of the doctors knew what to look for; they had never seen it before. I had. The first time around."

"So you mean that if you hadn't stayed alive, all those men would have died." At that moment Richie and Duncan entered the room, carrying breakfast.

"Yes, them and countless others I have saved, more than any mortal doctor could. If you use your Immortality to do some good, then it keeps the balance sheet in check. The Boy Scout here does it his way, he's a warrior, always has been, so he defends honour and justice, helps the weak and innocent by taking the heads of evil immortals who prey on them. We do things our way. It's not about winning the Game, and it's not about staying alive, it's about living, and living well." Suddenly, the muffled sound of a Queen track interrupted the conversation. Methos looked abashed. "Sorry, I thought I switched it off." Methos said as he pulled a cell phone from his pocket.

"You have a cell?" Mac said, incredulously.

"Well it is the twenty-first century Highlander." He flipped the phone open and answered. "Adam Pierson…Daniel! Long time no hear stranger! Where have you been hiding?...yup…uh huh….well I must say you've peaked my curiosity, you haven't given a lecture in years. Can I bring some friends?...Great, then I'll see you then." He hung up and looked at Mac and Richie "How do you fancy a trip to Colorado Springs?"

The L World will continue in Part 3: Leading Separate Lives

http://idontlikegravy. 


	3. Leading Separate Lives

**The L World**

Welcome to the weird and wonderful L World. Absolutely nothing to do with 'The L Word' this is a crossover 'verse, where I realised that I had titled my stories beginning with L. This trend may or may not continue, depends on how imaginative I'm feeling. The stories are all grounded in the Highlander universe initially, then crossing into other shows. Any timeline errors are deliberate or because I'm not that familiar with the show, so sorry. Also, I know how irritating glaring errors of continuity can be, so I've tried to do my best, but if the pesky continuity pixies have struck, there's not much I can do about it, sorry. The story is set in the now, after the events of Highlander Endgame, but will not include anything that may occur in the new film 'The Source' as it is set in a parallel world. There is one rather major plotline that makes this an alternative Highlander universe, if you've read the first story you'll know that whilst it's not swimming in Denial, it's certainly a tributary of it, if you haven't read it and don't know what Denial is, go educate yourself and then come back when you are more enlightened. I am not a member of Clan Denial, preferring to find a logical comeback instead. Events maketh the man, not clothes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Highlander or Stargate or any of the characters of Highlander or Stargate, and I'm not making any money out of them, I'm just doing this for the love of the shows and the love of Richie. All rights and ownership belong to the people who actually own them, I'm just trying them on for size and I promise to return them good as new.

Warning: This story contains a non-graphic same sex relationship, so don't read it if that sort of thing offends. Also there's a bit of naughty language, but not much.

Rating PG

3. Leading separate lives

"I can't believe I gave up a bike meet for this." Richie was staring incredulously at the poster outside the lecture hall that read 'The Individual Identity in Old Kingdom Biography: a new hypothesis on the role of the king'. "I cannot believe you dragged my ass all the way to Colorado Springs for this b-s."

"I'm sorry; I thought you would like to learn a little about ancient Egypt." Replied Methos, testily. "Besides, Daniel's lectures have always been more…entertaining in the past. I don't understand it."

"You and me both buddy." Methos gave Richie one of his inscrutable looks, which the younger Immortal interpreted in this instance as a glower. He and Mac had accompanied the oldest Immortal on this little jaunt on the promise of an adventure. Jesse had stayed behind to start up his medical practice and he had muttered something about needing to 'discuss' something with Steve Sloane. Richie was beginning to wish he could have found some excuse too. The 'adventure' had turned out to be listening for an hour to some nerdy archaeologist prattle on about something to do with reading hieroglyphs. "That's an hour of my life I'm never getting back."

"Oh shut up. You can spare it." Mac was watching this with rising hilarity, but he felt he ought to intervene before the two ended up at swords at twenty paces.

"He's one of us." It was a statement not a question. Methos looked at him and nodded. Realisation dawned on Richie.

"Ah, so that's what that was. Huh! I've never come across a Pre-Immortal before. Does he know about us?"

"No, so be careful what you say around him. And for God's sake remember to call me Adam."

"Sure thing old man." Methos smiled sarcastically and slapped Richie upside the head. At that moment the guest speaker, Doctor Daniel Jackson, came out of the lecture hall. Seeing Methos he smiled broadly and proffered his hand. Methos took the hand and pulled him into a hug.

"Adam, it's good to see you. Glad you could make it."

"It's good to see you too. These are my friends, Richie Ryan and Duncan MacLeod." Hands were shaken and greetings exchanged and then Daniel directed them into a nearby restaurant. They chatted amicably over dinner, 'Adam' and Daniel reminiscing about their college days, Duncan and Richie swapping occasional glances and grins when something was unintentionally amusing, until Methos shot them a warning glance. Suddenly Daniel looked at his watch.

"Damn, I have to go. Look, how long are you in town? I'd love to meet again, but I really have to be somewhere else right now."

"We're here for a week."

"That's great. I'll call you." He tossed some money on the table to cover the bill and hightailed it out of the restaurant.

"Odd boy." Commented Richie.

"You don't know the half of it." Methos said enigmatically. Suddenly there was a screech of tyres. The three of them leapt to their feet, and ran out to the street, compelled by some dread urge. Sure enough, Daniel Jackson was lying in a crumpled heap by the side of the road. It was a hit-and-run and there were no witnesses about, so Methos went back inside to pay the bill and Duncan and Richie bundled Daniel's lifeless form into the back of the T'bird.

They lay Daniel on the bed of Methos' hotel room and went into a huddle on the other side of the room to discuss what to do next while they waited for him to come back. It was taking a surprisingly long time for Daniel to return from a simple hit and run, but one could never really judge these things. Sometimes it was a matter of minutes, sometimes more like hours. Methos spoke first.

"Aw, damn. I thought it would be ages before I had to leave Seacouver to teach Daniel. I just bought an apartment too." Mac gave Methos a look of pure scepticism.

"Since when do you take students?"

"Daniel's different. I quite like him, wouldn't mind if he stuck around a bit."

"Then why don't you bring him back with us?"

"No, I don't think Daniel would or could leave. The work he's doing here is too important." The other two looked at him quizzically. "While I was still with the Watchers I did some investigating via some government contacts to see what Daniel was up to. It's top secret classified stuff, but all you need to know for now is it is damn important for everyone that he keeps doing it. When I still had any sway with the Watchers I managed to install someone at his base to keep an eye on him and let me know the minute he died, and they've been sending me regular updates on his activities. You wouldn't believe me if I told you, which I can't as it's classified. But he will definitely not leave Colorado Springs."

"Then I'll teach him." Methos looked at Richie, surprised. "C'mon old man, I'm ready for this. I like the guy, and I want to be his teacher." Methos looked at Duncan, who just shrugged.

"I think he's right. I know he's not that old but I think he is ready to be a teacher. I'm not sure I'm ready for us to be apart again, but if it's what he wants, it makes sense. You don't want to move to Colorado, and I've got Jesse so I can't leave Seacouver." The oldest Immortal looked Richie up and down, critically, then came to a decision.

"Okay, if you're sure. Just let me talk to him alone, to explain everything. I think it will be less overwhelming coming from me." Duncan and Richie both nodded, and left to go to the hotel bar. Methos turned to the bed as Daniel gasped out and sat up.

"God, what hit me?"

"A car."

"I remember." Daniel felt around his body checking for any breaks. "But I don't feel any pain."

"Yes, about that. You died. But now you're back again."

"Not again." Daniel groaned. Methos was taken aback, that wasn't the usual reaction to the news, but then he remembered some of the Watcher's reports he'd read.

"Daniel san, we have a lot to talk about."

Duncan and Richie sat in silence for about an hour, nursing their drinks.

"Do you really want to leave?" Richie started at the question.

"I think it might be best for a while. I need to sort through some things."

"Like us you mean." Richie nodded and looked down at his glass. "Well, look if you're not sure about us…" Duncan left the implied question hanging.

"No, no, Mac, the one thing I am sure of right now is how I feel about you. But I'm not sure about me. See, when you… when I died, I was still young, didn't have to think about tomorrow, because as an Immortal I figured there would always be a tomorrow. Ever since I've been back, I've had one target after another to focus all my attention on, getting well, getting fit, finding you, finding answers. I just realised that I haven't taken any time to plan my future, now that I have one again. Teaching Daniel would be a start to finding myself, figuring out what sort of an Immortal, what sort of a man, I am. Do you see what I mean?" Duncan nodded and reached to take Richie's hand.

"You do whatever you need to do, okay?" he finished his drink. "Come on, let's go see if Methos is finished filling in Daniel."

"So Richie will be your teacher. Trust him; tell him what he needs to know okay? The bonds between teacher and student are of the utmost importance. And trust your team too. Sooner or later your luck will run out again, only this time you won't need a sarcophagus or the Ancients to intervene, and there are only so many excuses. Trust them, and they'll be able to help when the time comes. And one of them might just surprise you." Daniel looked at him quizzically, then put his hand to his head, in pain. Feeling the Buzz too, Methos looked to the door. He put a reassuring hand on Daniel's arm. "It's probably just Mac and Richie." The door opened and the two strolled in. Richie grinned at the two seated on the bed, and flopped down next to Daniel.

"So buddy, it's me and you now hey?"

"So it would seem. Ad… I mean Methos, explained everything to me."

"I see he explained everything." Duncan observed wryly.

"Well, Daniel is a good friend, and some things had to be discussed that he could only hear from a five thousand year old man." Methos replied, as enigmatic as ever. Duncan looked at him, the frustration clear, but he said nothing. He was used to this sort of cryptic double-talk from the old man and knew he wouldn't get a sensible answer from him. The telephone rang and Richie leaned over to pick it up.

"Y'ello?" he listened for a moment before handing the receiver to Duncan. "It's for you, it's Joe."

They left Duncan alone to talk to Joe, moving into the adjoining room that Richie had taken. With amusement Methos noted that some of Duncan's things were in this room. Intuition had been tugging at the old guy for some time now, and this confirmed his suspicions. He was happy that his friends were happy, but he knew better than to confront the ultra-masculine MacLeod about this. If and when he was ready, Mac would tell him. Daniel looked at his watch, suddenly panicked.

"Oh, damn! Can I use your phone? I need to call the base." Richie nodded, his curiosity showing. "When I left you earlier I was meant to be attending a meeting. Whilst I'm not officially military, I've been AWOL for nearly three hours now. I should call in to let them know I'm okay." He picked up the receiver and punched in a number. He spoke briefly to someone on the other end and then hung up. By the time he had finished, Duncan was standing in the doorway.

"Joe has an old friend in trouble." He said. "He needs us to go to England as soon as possible. He's already made arrangements for us to fly out of here tonight."

"It's that urgent?" Methos asked.

"Life and death, fate of the universe sort of thing apparently."

"I'd better go and pack then, hadn't I?" Methos walked back into his room, closing the door behind him. He had the feeling the other two would need some privacy. The intuitive Dr. Jackson sensed something similar and made a move.

"I'd better go too. I need to report to the base as soon as possible."

Richie nodded. As Daniel moved toward the door, Duncan grabbed his arm.

"You're an archaeologist aren't you? You have a collection of antiques, am I right?" Daniel nodded. "Do you have any swords in your collection?" another nod "Then on your way to the base stop off and pick one up. This is a quiet town, so you should be safe, but there are head hunters out there that prey on new Immortals. That may even have been who hit you earlier. If you feel another Immortal and it isn't one of us, run for holy ground, okay?" Daniel nodded his understanding and left, his mind racing with information and questions. Duncan turned to Richie and held him close. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" he felt Richie nod against his chest "I think he'll be a quick study. He seems to have a natural grace and there is something about the way he carries himself that would suggest he's had some military training, maybe even combat experience. Just make sure that you stay attuned to his needs, that you take him in the direction that suits him, okay? I'd recommend a broadsword for him, something two-handed. He obviously works out, so I think he can handle it, but you need to work with him on other techniques too, you never know who he might be facing." Richie laughed good-naturedly at his concern.

"I get it Mac, don't worry. I had a pretty good teacher myself you know?" Duncan smiled, "How long until you have to leave for the flight to England?"

"Four hours. Why?"

"Because we're wasting time, that's why." Richie grinned at him. Taking the hint, Duncan pulled him close and kissed him.

A few days later, a dumbstruck Teal'c and Cameron sat on Daniel's couch whilst Sam and Richie occupied his chairs. Daniel had just explained everything to them, and given them a demonstration of his healing with the standard 'slash the palm with a knife' shtick, and they were now trying to process it. It was Sam who spoke first.

"Well, to be honest I'm surprised that this never came up sooner." Daniel and Richie looked at her, now it was their turn to be dumbstruck. Slowly, a realisation crept over Richie.

"You're the Watcher." Sam nodded. "But your wrist is clear. Where's your tattoo?" Sam smiled.

"Air Force protocol doesn't allow officers to be tattooed below the elbow, so it isn't on my wrist."

"Where is it then?" Cam asked. Daniel was impressed that he could still manage to be a letch under such circumstances. They were all a little disappointed when Sam demonstrated it was on the small of her back.

"Well," Cam said, "today has definitely been an education."

"Well, I think the education should continue." Daniel said, "I think Richie needs to know some stuff about us, like where I'm going to keep disappearing to." He held up his hand at the protest on Cam's lips. "I don't mean specifics, just a rough idea so he isn't in the dark. He's going to be my teacher, so I need to trust him completely, and that trust has to work both ways. Look, he's pretty good at keeping secrets and he's, we've just trusted you three with a huge secret that could put us and every other Immortal in danger if it got out. Can you imagine the witch hunts? He's trusted us, now we need to trust him." The four members of SG-1 seemed to have a silent conversation with each other, and come to an agreement. Cam nodded to Daniel.

"Okay, Danny, explain away. But try not to get carried away. Remember the meaning of classified?" So Daniel turned to Richie and began to explain about the Stargate, the Goa'uld and the other details of his peculiar life.

"Oh my god." Richie said, when he was capable of speech again. "This is unbelievable."

"Oh yes," said Cameron sarcastically, "because people living forever and running around cutting each other's heads off is sooo realistic."

"Well, when you put it like that." Richie grinned. "Wow, so you're all like superheroes or something."

"Or something." said Samantha with a wry smile.

"Might I ask how old you are Richard Ryan?" Teal'c asked.

"I'm thirty-three, I was nineteen when I became Immortal."

"I myself have been a warrior for over one hundred years. Do you feel that you are qualified to teach these skills to Daniel Jackson?" Richie was taken aback by the question. Daniel knew that Teal'c was just being a concerned friend, but he had come across as aggressive, so he stepped up to Richie's defence.

"Richie is good enough. He must be or MacLeod and Adam wouldn't have entrusted me to his care. They are both experienced Immortals and they believe he is good enough." Teal'c raised an eyebrow at his friend's fierce loyalty to the relative stranger.

"I am sorry Richard Ryan."

"No sweat, I get that you're looking out for your buddy. Hey, a hundred years experience as a warrior, I'll appreciate your advice." Teal'c gave a short bow, which Richie returned. He didn't know anything about Jaffa culture, but Mac had taught him enough about samurai etiquette to know that bowing was a sign of respect. He thought that learning an alien fighting style might be fun, and give both him and Daniel an edge in the Game. Plus, he thought to himself with a smile, I'll finally be better than Mac at something.

Richie helped Daniel to select a broadsword from his collection and showed him how to get it battle sharp, before he began to teach him how to use it. Duncan had been right in his assessment of Daniel; he was both combat experienced and a fast learner. Within two weeks he was proficient with not only the broadsword, but the katana and rapier too. Daniel threw himself into the training wholeheartedly, sparring and training for hours every day, even when he was off-world, but Richie could almost swear that someone had already been teaching him. Richie too was training, learning to be a teacher, and learning Jaffa fighting techniques from Cameron and Teal'c. Plus he was even picking up some Goa'uld, Egyptian and other ancient and alien languages from watching Daniel work.

In the middle of the second week, Richie and Daniel were walking back to Daniel's apartment after jogging in the woods when they both felt the Buzz. A middle-aged looking Immortal stepped out from behind a tree, cavalry sword drawn. Richie and Daniel both drew their swords and stood en guarde.

"Which one of you is Richie Ryan?" growled the stranger.

"That would be me." Daniel relaxed slightly, as his mentor stepped forward. "And you are?"

"The name is Dawson Taylor. I've come for your head boy."

"You mean there are people out there who really do have the first name Dawson? I'd have changed it if I were you buddy." Richie didn't normally like to taunt like this, not since his own head hunting days, but he still hated being called a boy. Taylor growled and charged at Richie. He sidestepped the blow, coming round with his sword to slice across his opponent's back. Taylor spun round, blocking Richie's next swing, but leaving himself open to a swift punch to the stomach.

"That's for calling me boy" Richie said through gritted teeth, as he struck again at Taylor, this time slicing the man across the chest and upper arm. Daniel watched as they continued to fight for the next few minutes. Taylor seemed to be pretty good, but it was obvious even to Daniel that Richie was the better swordsman. Richie performed a neat little trick he had learned from Teal'c, disarming his opponent, and pressed his blade against Taylor's neck.

"Do it. Boy." Spat Taylor. Without hesitation or word, Richie pulled his sword back and delivered the fatal blow. He turned to Daniel to assess his reaction, but the archaeologist's face showed only concern for his teacher before the world was obliterated by the Quickening.

Daniel watched awestruck as Richie was hit again and again by the lightning. So that's what a Quickening looks like, he thought, I'm not sure I want to know what it feels like. Richie seemed to be in intense agony, and yet at the same time a kind of ecstasy too. Finally, it stopped and Richie fell to his knees. Daniel rushed forward and helped him to his feet.

They walked back to Daniel's apartment in silence, Richie still tired from the fight and Quickening, and Daniel lost in his own thoughts. Once inside he brewed them some coffee and they sat down. It was then that Daniel spoke.

"Is it always that painful?"

"Not always, no. The more powerful it is, the worse it is, and the fewer you take the more it hurts. But the sense of power can become addictive, that's why some are head hunters. All they want is the next Quickening, like a junkie after a fix. They don't really care about the Game anymore." Daniel nodded thoughtfully as he processed the information. "Are you okay? I know it can be a bit overwhelming the first time."

"Yes. I'm okay. I'm generally against violence, but my experiences with the SGC have taught me that it's sometimes necessary. That's not the first dead man I've seen. Not even the first duel. I've killed. It's not something I'm proud of, but I've done it to survive and I know I'm capable of doing it again." Richie placed his hand on Daniel's shoulder in sympathy and noticed it was covered in blood.

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom? I should get cleaned up before I head back to the hotel." He grinned

"You'd better borrow a shirt too." Daniel returned the grin. "That one's ruined." Richie headed to the bathroom as Daniel went to get him a top. Stripping to the waist and binning the ruined shirt, he washed the blood from his body. As he washed his neck, he noticed that the scar was gone and smiled. Daniel came in and handed him a shirt. "Listen, Richie, I'm going off-world for three weeks from tomorrow, so you're welcome to borrow the apartment if you like, it seems ridiculous to pay for a hotel."

"Thanks Daniel. That would be great."

The people of P7X-9876, or the Meshwesh as they called themselves, were technologically in the equivalent of the Middle Ages. They spoke a dialect of Goa'uld, and were deeply superstitious and suspicious of strangers. Their suspicions about SG-1 were not helped by the presence of a Jaffa, although his lack of larval Goa'uld helped convince the village elders that Teal'c was no threat.

The planet was a prime source of Naqada, and having lost so many mining concessions to the Ori incursion into our galaxy, SG-1 had authority to trade whatever was necessary to secure mining rights from the Meshwesh. The negotiations were going well after the initial hostility had been resolved, and Daniel was confident that they would sign an agreement by the end of their three weeks. Then, as O'Neill would have said, everything went to hell in a handcart.

A group of religious fanatics who wished to restore the old ways had taken it upon themselves to assassinate the 'shol'va' and his companions. In the middle of the final week of negotiations, they burst into the council chamber and fired a crossbow at Teal'c. Without thinking, Daniel stepped in front of his friend and got a bolt in the chest for his trouble. Equally instinctively, the other three opened fire on the assassins. Unfortunately, they also hit the council leader, and got themselves locked up to face murder charges.

As part of their current religion, the Meshwesh felt it necessary to give Daniel a proper burial, with all the attendant ceremony. They removed the arrow from his body and placed him on the altar of their temple, where he would lie, under vigil, for three days before the funeral. He actually only lay there for about ten minutes after the arrow was removed. He gasped loudly, convulsing once, before coughing like a 90 year old, twenty-a-day man. The terrified villagers who had been watching over his body ran from the temple yelling "Biwa! Biwa!" Daniel knew it would only be a matter of time before that shout changed from "Miracle!" to "Demon!", so he hoisted himself to his feet and staggered out to the street. By the time he had got outside, he was recovered and word had spread of the 'miracle'. A crowd had gathered around the temple, some of whom, Daniel noticed with amusement, were brandishing pitchforks. One of the council elders stepped forward.

"You see now! These strangers are evil! He comes back from the dead; I say he is a demon! We should burn him and the others!" While Daniel was fairly certain the fire wouldn't kill him permanently, he wasn't exactly gagging to experience burning to death, and it would be permanent for the others.

"No! I am not a demon. It is a miracle! The gods have spared me because they want the friendship between our worlds to succeed!"

"You lie, demon!" Daniel could see he was getting nowhere fast. It was time to change tactics, but how? Perhaps his new found Immortality gave him greater access to his ascended memories, or maybe it was the stress of the situation that triggered his recall, but suddenly he remembered a little trick Oma had taught him while he was ascended and hoped it might still work. Concentrating on his hand like he had never done before, he managed to conjure a flame at the end of his fingers. The villagers stepped back as one, some shrieking, most muttering threats.

"Yes, I am a demon" he snarled dramatically, "a fire demon, and if you don't want me to burn this place to the ground, you will release my friends and let us return through the Chappa'ai unharmed." The elder who had spoken nodded to a group of men who ran off toward the village gaol. "Now, lead me to my possessions." Not sure how much longer he could keep up the flame, Daniel made a show of putting it out by closing his fist. It hurt like hell, but he knew that didn't matter. The village elder led him into the council chamber where his things had been left. Now he had his Zat, he didn't worry about being able to recreate the fire, and he shouldered his pack. He felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder and looked to find another crossbow bolt sticking out from it. He pulled the bolt out as he turned to find the guilty party. Locating the frightened villager, he fired one shot at him, sending him to the ground. He couldn't break character now if they were to all get home alive, and one shot would only stun the man. "Anyone else want to try something?" he snarled in Goa'uld. Any thoughts of action were quickly banished as the villagers witnessed blue lightning flicker across the wound in Daniel's shoulder, before it and the wound vanished. Zat armed and pointing at the villagers, Daniel walked back to the square, where he joined the others. "Hi guys! Time for a short stroll on the direction of earth don't you think?"

"Couldn't agree with you more Daniel." Cameron took one last look around at the stunned villagers before heading to the Gate with the others. "I'm guessing that they had never seen anyone come back from the grave before?"

"No, I don't think they had." Daniel chuckled, "They thought I was a demon, especially when I threatened to lay waste to their village."

"So what will we put in our reports? I think it's safe to say that the trade deal ain't gonna happen."

"How about that the negotiations broke down due to the suspicious and hostile temperament of the natives?" suggested Sam.

"Sounds like an excellent plan to me. Damn you Watchers are good at cover-ups aintcha?" Cameron smiled. They reached the Gate and Daniel headed for the DHD, pausing before he hit the buttons to say,

"I can see how the whole god-thing could be seductive to someone with a thirst for power, like the Goa'uld." Teal'c raised an eyebrow.

"Then it is fortunate for us all that you are not like them Daniel Jackson." Daniel grinned and dialled home on the DHD.

The L World will continue in Part 4: London Calling

http://idontlikegravy. 


	4. London Calling

**The L World**

Welcome to the weird and wonderful L World. Absolutely nothing to do with 'The L Word' this is a crossover 'verse, where I realised that I had titled my stories beginning with L. This trend may or may not continue, depends on how imaginative I'm feeling. The stories are all grounded in the Highlander universe initially, then crossing into other shows. Any timeline errors are deliberate or because I'm not that familiar with the show, so sorry. Also, I know how irritating glaring errors of continuity can be, so I've tried to do my best, but if the pesky continuity pixies have struck, there's not much I can do about it, sorry. The story is set in the now and slightly into the future, after the events of Highlander Endgame, but will not include anything that may occur in the new film 'The Source' as it is set in an AU. There is one rather major plotline that makes this an alternative Highlander universe, if you've read the first story you'll know that whilst it's not swimming in Denial, it's certainly a tributary of it, if you haven't read it and don't know what Denial is, go educate yourself and then come back when you are more enlightened. I am not a member of Clan Denial, preferring to find a logical comeback instead. Events maketh the man, not clothes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Highlander or Buffy or any of the characters of Highlander or Buffy, and I'm not making any money out of them, I'm just doing this for the love of the shows and the love of Richie. All rights and ownership belong to the clever people who created them and therefore own them. I'm just paddling in their playpool so please don't set the dogs on me.

Warning: This story contains a non-graphic same sex relationship, so don't read it if that sort of thing offends. Oh and there's the odd naughty word.

4. London calling

Methos and Duncan arrived at Waterloo station two days after leaving Colorado Springs. Due to the urgency, Joe couldn't get any direct flights and so the two Immortals had ended up taking three different internal flights before a stopover in New York and a Red-eye to Paris, then finally the Eurostar train into London. Methos was not happy, and spent much of the journey devising ever more ingenious tortures for his favourite Watcher. Not wanting to waste any more time, the two checked into a hotel and then headed straight for Watcher HQ. The impressive Georgian structure was the new base for the Watchers, acquired after the minions of the First blew up the old council building. As they approached the front of it, Duncan felt a sense of familiarity.

"Didn't this use to be a coffee house?" he asked his companion.

"Um, yes I think it did, about two hundred years ago."

"What can I say; I don't get to Mayfair that often. This must have cost the council a fair few quid."

"I expect it did. I'd already left before it was purchased, but I do remember Joe ranting about the 'damn English and their damn extravagance'." Duncan laughed at Methos' pretty accurate impression of their grizzly friend as they entered the door of the imposing façade. They spoke to someone at reception, who directed them to the top floor offices of Mr. Rupert Giles. They went up and introduced themselves to Mr Giles' secretary, who asked them to take a seat, before disappearing into one of the offices. Before long, she reappeared, followed by a young blonde man. Well that can't be Giles, thought Duncan.

"Good afternoon." The young man said. Definitely not, this kid was American and Joe had said that Giles couldn't be more British if he tried, despite living several years in California. "My name is Andrew; I'm an associate of Mr. Giles. Would you please come with me?" They rose and followed Andrew into his office. "Please, take a seat." They did. What a geek, thought Methos, is this what the next generation of Watchers is going to be? An army of D&D players? "Mr Giles was unfortunately called away urgently, and couldn't wait for your arrival. He sends his regrets and his sincerest thanks for coming so quickly. He asked that you leave a number where you can be contacted and he'll be in touch just as soon as he gets back. He shouldn't be gone more than a week." Duncan glowered at the nervous young man, then wrote his name and the number for his hotel before they both got up and left a rather perplexed Andrew, trying his best to look officious. As they got outside, Duncan was not happy.

"Well that was a waste of time."

"You know what; I think this is all some elaborate joke on Joe's part. Forget the torture; I'm just going to take his head."

"Well what good would that do?" enquired the Scot.

"It would bloody well make me feel better." The two returned to their hotel and slept off the jetlag. The next day they decided to play tourist and went round all the usual sites. It was a bit cheesy, but they realised that neither of them had ever done it, despite both living in London for several decades over the centuries. After the third day, Methos got fed up of waiting and decided that whatever the problem was, the overgrown Boy Scout could handle it alone. If he couldn't he had Methos' cell number. He decided to look up a mortal friend of his, and hopped on the next train to Cardiff.

Ten days after arriving in London, Duncan got a call from the Watchers, asking him to meet with Rupert Giles and associate for dinner. Duncan guessed that the Watcher was probably assessing him on neutral ground before giving him the details of his problem. He duly turned up at the restaurant at the appointed time and was directed to a table where two men were already seated. Rupert Giles was younger than Duncan had expected, and less tweedy than Joe's description. In his mid-to-late-forties, he was dressed in smart but casual clothing, and an earring adorned one lobe. Duncan turned to assess the other man, who he had not yet met, and caught the faint Buzz of a Pre-Immortal. He was still young, only in his late twenties at most, but Duncan could see the mark of hard battles was upon him, an effect made stronger by the young man's eye patch. As he approached the table, they both rose and Giles stuck out his hand.

"Duncan MacLeod, I presume. It's a great honour sir. Joe's told me much about you." Duncan took the proffered hand.

"Mr. Giles."

"Oh, please, call me Rupert."

"Hardly anybody does." The young man was soft spoken, with a humour that shone through, and Duncan immediately warmed to him. He shook his hand, before sitting down.

"This is Xander Harris. He was one of my students at Sunnydale High, and since Sunnydale… well disappeared, he's been my right hand man. I must apologise for not being here when you arrived, we had to make an urgent trip to Italy." Joe was right, mused Duncan, he's very British.

The evening passed amicably enough. The food was good, the wine flowed freely, and the conversation was pleasant, though superficial, Duncan noted. As the evening wore on, he couldn't help warming to his dining companions, and began to wax lyrical, slipping back into his native brogue as he became more inebriated. Duncan didn't easily trust mortals, especially Watchers, but there was something about these two that set him at ease. They finished the evening back in Giles' flat, sipping fine single malt. Duncan couldn't quite remember much beyond that, except he had a vague recollection of agreeing to go to Liverpool the next day.

Sure enough, he was roused from his slumbers by the arrival of Giles and Xander around lunchtime and they caught the 2.15 from Euston to Lime Street. It had been a century since Duncan had visited the bustling port and he was surprised by how much she had changed in one hundred years. It was always a thriving town, but here was now a truly metropolitan city that had justly earned the title Capital of Culture. They walked through the city centre, past Mathew Street and The Cavern toward the now-trendy Albert Docks. Duncan was a little puzzled as to what they were doing there, but all he could get from Giles was that it was a little demonstration to prove they weren't insane and a test of Duncan's abilities. Just before sunset they approached an abandoned warehouse near the Mersey that had not yet been developed into executive flats. Giles instructed him to hide and keep watch. As the sun went down, three men cautiously came out of the building. They all lit cigarettes, and stood around, like any other group of men on a break. Then an argument broke out, which came to blows. One was knocked to the ground, and when he stood up again, his face was different.

"My god." whispered Duncan, looking to Giles. Giles motioned him to remain still and they waited for the three to go back inside, before slipping away. "What were those things?" questioned Duncan. In over four hundred years he had never seen anything like that before.

"They were vampires. We are here to kill them." Duncan looked at him incredulously. "That's why you had to see them for yourself. Even with all your experience, even with what you have just seen, you are still looking for a rational explanation, aren't you? Well they were vampires, and they were very, very real. We'll attack at sunup."

They waited out the night in a nearby pub, and Duncan was very grateful for late licensing. He needed many stiff drinks to get a handle on this. Just before daybreak they returned to the warehouse and Xander pulled a crossbow and some wooden stakes from his holdall.

"These work best on vamps." He told a stunned Duncan. "But beheading works too, so I guess you might as well stick to that." Still not quite believing what was happening; Duncan pulled his sword from his coat and followed the two into the building. They grabbed the first two off guard and Duncan was stunned to see them turn to dust. If he hadn't been convinced before, he was now, and set to beheading as many as he could. It was a small nest, only a dozen or so vampires, and the three of them had caught them as they were winding down the night. Most of them were drunk or high, and it made them sloppy. Within half an hour the battle was over, and three very dusty heroes walked into the sunlight.

They made the journey back to London in silence, Xander sleeping most of the journey, and Giles allowing the older man to process what he had seen. At Euston, Giles asked Duncan to think long and hard about what he had witnessed, and what he may be getting into, and told him to come to his office in three days if he still wanted to help.

As he entered the headquarters of the Watchers, Duncan felt a little apprehension. Though he hardly knew him, he felt comfortable around Rupert, the head of the Slayer branch of the Watchers, and he was good friends with the head of the US branch of the Watchers, but still he couldn't help but feel that he was walking into the lions' den. Going there so late at night didn't help his unease. Unexpectedly, he felt the Buzz, so Duncan concealed himself behind a pillar. At the last second he swung out, bringing his sword around to clash with the blade of Richie's sword. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed as he lowered his blade.

"It's good to see you too!"

"Why have you left your student? He shouldn't be left alone so soon." Duncan had automatically slipped into teacher-mode himself.

"Relax. Daniel had to go away on a mission, somewhere I couldn't go with him. I know he'll be away for at least two weeks, so I thought I'd follow you. I missed you." He caressed Duncan as he said this and then gently kissed him. Duncan kissed him back and enfolded him in an embrace.

"You still shouldn't have come." Duncan chastised.

"When have I ever done what I should do?" Duncan smiled, and the two walked arm in arm toward the office of Rupert Giles.

"We have had some experience with demons." Richie said, testily.

"Ah, yes. Ahriman. Although my research has led me to believe that he wasn't a demon as such, more a corporeal manifestation of the First Evil."

"You beat the First, alone? Very cool." Xander was master of the understatement.

"It wasn't really a physical fight, most of his power lay in influencing people, playing mind games." Duncan looked at Richie as he said this, who had subconsciously put his hand to his throat. A look of pain crossed Duncan's face before he continued. "He made a mistake, manipulated me into doing something intended to weaken me, which ultimately only strengthened my resolve." He reached out and took Richie's hand for the briefest of moments. The gesture was noticed by Giles, who understood. Joe had told him about what had happened and about Richie's subsequent resurrection when he asked for his help in researching the myths.

"Well, yes, indeed. In fact I believe it was Duncan's defeat of Ahriman that led the First to change tactics and focus on the Hellmouth."

"Ah. Not so cool." Xander absent-mindedly brushed his hand over his eye patch. Richie and Duncan both looked uncomfortable about the whole conversation so, diplomatic as always, Giles changed tack.

"Anyway, as I was saying, this is a particularly nasty and difficult to kill demon and we required the assistance of someone with your…talents. The demon himself is non-corporeal, but it has taken possession of a rather powerful host. An Immortal host." Duncan and Richie looked at each other. This could not be good. "I tried the traditional exorcisms and incantations, but nothing seemed to work. Out of options we realised we would need to sacrifice the host, but when we killed him he rose again. This particular species of demon doesn't have that sort of power, so I guessed he was Immortal. I contacted Joe, who confirmed the name was a known alias."

"Why didn't you just chop his head off?" Richie was straight to the point as usual.

"I was concerned about his Quickening." Duncan looked at him, enquiring, "I was concerned that killing him wouldn't kill the demon and that if the Quickening didn't enter another Immortal it could stay with the demon and make his next host Immortal."

"But how do you know that the demon won't enter the next Immortal with the Quickening?" Duncan asked.

"Magic doesn't work like that. Usually. Just to make certain, I will be casting a binding spell to contain the demon at the same moment that you take the Immortal's head."

"And you are certain there is no other way. The Immortal cannot be saved."

"No, he can't. From what Joe tells me he was a pretty nasty sort before, he may even have invited the demon to join with him in an attempt to increase his chances in the Game. So, will you do it?" Duncan and Richie looked at each other then back at Giles and nodded. They made plans to corner the Immortal the next evening, and discussed their exact strategy. At about two, Xander left to make some calls to 'the cavalry', just in case anything went wrong. Duncan took the opportunity to speak to Giles.

"Rupert, you need to keep an eye on Xander."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about him, he's very experienced in demon fighting."

"That's not what I meant. You both lead very dangerous lives, and if something should happen to us tomorrow, you need to know." Giles looked at Duncan quizzically. "Xander is one of us. He's an Immortal."

"Or at least he will be." Richie chimed in. Shocked, Giles looked from one to the other and could tell they were deadly serious. He removed his glasses and began polishing the lenses.

"Oh my." The Watcher said softly. Duncan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"If Xander dies a violent death, he will become Immortal. If you can, send him to me or Richie and we'll take care of him, but if something happens to us tomorrow, contact Joe, he'll know someone who can teach him the Game." Giles nodded his understanding. He was mortified at the thought that if Xander fell in battle he would be condemned to fight for eternity, but he knew he'd never be able to dissuade him from fighting demons, and was reassured that he had such a respected potential teacher. They parted to prepare for the next day, and as Richie and Duncan returned to the hotel, they discussed strategy. They agreed that Duncan would make the challenge in the usual way, but if the demon had indeed given this Immortal an edge, then Richie could interfere. These were exceptional circumstances, and the Rules did not apply. Both were frightened about the coming battle. They had only faced one demonic entity before, and that hadn't exactly ended well. Duncan wanted Richie out of it, but he knew better than to try and order him to leave. Instead the two of them found solace in each other's arms, and they made love until the sun rose over the Thames.

They tracked the Immortal to an abandoned Underground station in North London. As they descended down the dark non-functioning escalator they saw the remains of the demon's victims. Richie noted with disgust that the bones had been gnawed, and not just by the rats. As they reached the bottom, they could see a faint light at the other end of the platform. Duncan and Richie felt the presence of the one they were hunting and gave a prearranged signal to Giles, who moved to take up position. He set up the equipment necessary for the spell as Xander stood guard, and the two Immortals moved toward the light. As they neared, they could make out a shape and drew their swords. A voice came out from the shape.

"Since when did this become a team sport?" The voice was like nails on a blackboard, icy cold and malevolent.

"I am making the challenge. I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."

"Greetings Duncan MacLeod." The shape rose to standing and began to move toward them. "We are Barok. We accept your challenge." As they stepped into the pool of light it became clear to Duncan and Richie that this thing was no longer human. Its skin was rotted and peeling, revealing a black, scaly flesh underneath and its eyes were yellow and reptilian. Richie found it hard to keep the look of revulsion from his face. Barok unsheathed a vicious looking axe and faced Duncan. With a roar he launched himself at MacLeod, covering the distance between them far quicker than any normal Immortal. It was clear that the demon was giving the Immortal an advantage, but Richie had his instructions, and wouldn't interfere until Mac gave him the signal. He watched as Duncan battled the demon, deflecting blow after punishing blow with his katana. But he was tiring too quickly and he had no real opportunities to attack, with horror Richie realised he was losing and looked to his lover for the signal. Mac was too engrossed in defending his life though, and didn't supply the in Richie needed. They were fighting ever closer to the edge of the platform, and suddenly Richie saw his chance, as Duncan lost his footing and toppled onto the rail. He charged the demon before he could have a chance to pursue Duncan, and Barok seemed happy to engage the newcomer, his previous opponent seemingly forgotten. The younger man spared a quick glance to his fallen mentor and seeing he would be okay shortly, he laid into the demon. His recent diligence in training gave him more stamina, and he was slightly faster than Mac, using Jaffa moves to find a gap to press home his attack. With a fury that matched the demon's own, he pressed the advantage, driving Barok towards Giles. He swung his sword in an arc, chopping off the hands of the demon, before bringing it around again to remove his head. In the few moments of silence that followed, Richie could hear Giles chanting in some ancient language he didn't recognise. Daniel would know, he thought absently, before his senses were engulfed by the Quickening.

Duncan hauled himself back on the platform in time to witness the Quickening. "Dammit," he muttered as he ran to Richie, to catch him as the explosions ended.

"Whoa." Whispered Xander, before turning to check that Giles was okay. Duncan stared into Richie's eyes, looking for any sign that there was anyone else in there with him. Besides the demon, he was also afraid this may have been a Dark Quickening, so he softened as Richie reached out to stroke his cheek.

"Hey," he said weakly, "now we've both slain a demon." Then he lapsed into unconsciousness.

"The spell was successful." Giles intoned with little emotion, the strain from performing such a powerful spell showing in his voice. "That's just Richie." Duncan smiled and nodded.

Xander helped Duncan raise Richie to his feet, and the four men began their journey back to the surface.

Once they were back in Giles' office, the Watcher poured them all a drink.

"So is it always like that? The light show?" Xander queried. Richie nodded before sipping at his whiskey. It wasn't wise for the Pre-Immortal to know too much, but as he was part of the Watcher organisation he had access to files anyway, so he may as well get information from the horse's mouth. "Man. That was weird, and I know weird." The other three men chuckled. They sat drinking and swapping war stories for the rest of the night, until Richie noticed the time.

"Hey, Mac, we'd better hit the road. We've gotta pack." The older man looked at the time and agreed. They shook hands with their two new friends and walked out into the early London morning. "I really like that guy Xander. Do you think he'll become Immortal?"

"I don't know Rich, he's survived this long without being killed. Perhaps he'll live to a ripe old age and die peacefully in his sleep." Richie could hear the unsaid implication in Duncan's words.

"Yeah, right."

The L World will continue in Part 5: Less is more

http://idontlikegravy. 


	5. Less is More

**The L World**

Welcome to the weird and wonderful L World. Absolutely nothing to do with 'The L Word' this is a crossover 'verse, where I realised that I had titled my stories beginning with L. This trend may or may not continue, depends on how imaginative I'm feeling. The stories are all grounded in the Highlander universe initially, then crossing into other shows. Any timeline errors are deliberate or because I'm not that familiar with the show, so sorry. Also, I know how irritating glaring errors of continuity can be, so I've tried to do my best, but if the pesky continuity pixies have struck, there's not much I can do about it, sorry. The story is set in the now, after the events of Highlander Endgame, but will not include anything that may occur in the new film 'The Source' as it is set in a parallel world. There is one rather major plotline that makes this an alternative Highlander universe, if you've read the first story you'll know that whilst it's not swimming in Denial, it's certainly a tributary of it, if you haven't read it and don't know what Denial is, go educate yourself and then come back when you are more enlightened. I am not a member of Clan Denial, preferring to find a logical comeback instead. Events maketh the man, not clothes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Highlander or Torchwood/ Doctor Who or any of the characters of Highlander or Torchwood/Doctor Who, and I'm not making any money out of them, I'm just doing this for the love of the shows and the love of Richie. All rights and ownership belong to the people who actually own them, I'm just paddling in their shallow end.

Warning: This story contains a non-graphic same sex relationship, so don't read it if that sort of thing offends. Oo there's the odd naughty word occasionally too.

PS: This thread of the story had been bouncing around my brain for a while, but the meeting in this story was heavily inspired by the story "Five Times Methos and Jack Met on Vacation" by Jinxed wood, which made me laugh out loud. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so I hope Jinxed wood finds this very flattering.

5. Less is More

Methos strolled along the pavement on his way to the castle. He was going to meet with Paul, a friend from his Watcher days, and hopefully spend a couple of days getting completely pissed. If there was one thing he could always rely on the Welshman for, it was a steady supply of good beer. He was suddenly distracted by the presence of another Immortal. "Not now." He moaned, as he searched for the source. A young man was running towards the castle entrance from another direction. Methos did a double take when he saw that the man was dressed in a World War Two airman's uniform. The young man stopped, his hand going to his head, and looked directly at Methos. With a grin of recollection they both pointed at each other.

"You!" said Methos and Captain Jack Harkness in unison. A young woman ran back toward Jack.

"Come on, he's getting away."

"You go on Gwen. You and Owen can handle this. I've got some other business to take care of." Gwen looked at him curiously, but figuring she'd get an answer later and not wanting to lose her quarry, she ran back into the castle.

"You're not with the Doctor this time?" asked Methos. Jack shook his head and laughed. "I think we have a few things we need to discuss, don't you? Let's go find a pub and catch up."

"So you and I and all these other guys are Immortal? And we all have to fight each other in this Gathering. But I can't die unless…" he drew his finger across his throat. Methos nodded.

"But if what you just told me is true, then it means that the Gathering isn't here yet. If you are from the future, then it can't be happening, unless…" he trailed off, a look of consternation on his face.

"Unless what?"

"Well, if now is the time of the Gathering, but you were born in the future, then you were predestined to come back in time to this moment." Methos could tell from the look on Jack's face that the idea of an unchangeable fate was unappealing to him too.

"So what now?" Jack asked. Methos sighed. I have definitely been hanging around the boy-scout too much, he thought to himself resignedly, I can't believe I'm about to say this.

"I'll become your teacher. You'll be challenged by Immortals who have lived for centuries, millennia in some cases." Methos grinned "At least I know you don't need much practise with a sword."

_Flashback_

_987CE, Constantinople_

_A quiet alley between two houses, dusk._

_Methos stood over the body of his opponent as he waited for nausea from the Quickening to pass. He no longer relished killing, even Immortals, but this one wouldn't take no for an answer. He cursed in his native tongue as he kicked the corpse and headed out of the alley. Suddenly two strangely garbed men came barrelling around the corner, knocking him flat._

"_Sorry bud," said the taller, dark-haired one, "Didn't see you there." His words were strange and something tickled in the back of Methos' mind, as though the stranger were speaking two languages at once, one of which he could not understand. He suddenly realised that the stranger was speaking his own tongue, not the local language, but he was the only one left alive who spoke his language. He intended to demand an explanation, but the shorter fellow was helping him to his feet and speaking._

"_Awfully sorry, are you hurt? I'm the Doctor."_

"_I do not require a physician." The Doctor assessed him carefully._

"_Ah, no, of course not." Methos was about to ask him what he meant by that, when a giant of a Moor came around the corner, wielding a nasty looking scimitar._

"_Mind if I borrow this?" Jack asked as he grabbed Methos' sword from the stunned Immortal's hand. He engaged the Moor in combat, and Methos was impressed. For a mortal, he was skilled with a blade, no, an Immortal he corrected himself, but there was something strange about him, and he was certainly new to the Game or he would carry his own sword. He dispatched the assailant in short order and turned back to Methos to return the sword. "Thanks a lot buddy. Hey it's you, how you doing?" Methos looked confused._

"_I do not know you stranger. You must have me confused with someone else." The one who had identified himself as a doctor whispered something in his companion's ear. He looked at him, then Methos and shrugged._

"_Sorry, mac, must have, my mistake. Thanks for the sword!" this last part was called out over his shoulder as the two men ran off down the alley._

_-_

"So for you that was the first time we met?" Methos nodded his head.

"Unlike some people, I live chronologically. I have to admit you had me bloody confused for a long time. Even now, after everything the Doctor told me, I still find all this time travel stuff a little disorienting."

"Didn't you want to travel with him? Find out what was out there?" Methos smiled and shook his head.

"I figure that I will get to see it eventually, providing I don't lose my head in the meantime. Time Lords and Immortals have two things in common, long life lines and plenty of patience." Jack nodded his understanding.

"Well as far as I was concerned, we had already met, but I guess for you it would be, what, another millennia?"

_-_

_Cardiff 1941_

_Methos staggered out of the pub and headed towards the place he had been staying in. He was serving as a doctor in the RAF, and tomorrow he would be heading to a battlefront hospital, but tonight his mission had been to consume as much beer as he could find. As he stumbled past a dance hall, he was distracted by the faint Buzz of a Pre-Immortal. Mildly curious, he turned to find the source and saw a familiar figure. "You!" he slurred, pointing an accusing finger toward the man, who was dressed in the familiar airman's uniform. "How are you here? Now?"_

_Jack looked at the stranger, assessing him. Cute, he thought, a doctor too from the uniform. _

"_Sorry mac, never had the pleasure. Unfortunately." he smiled lasciviously._

"_But it was you…back in…it was you." Methos wanted to say more, but there were witnesses. He couldn't understand how the man wasn't yet Immortal, when he clearly had been a thousand years ago. And why didn't he remember Constantinople? Jack and his companions laughed at the drunk and moved off to their next party. A very bemused Methos watched them go._

"_Tonight was the first time he met you." came a voice from the shadows. Methos span round and came face to face with the man who had called himself a doctor. No, Methos corrected himself, the Doctor. "There are a few things I think you need explained to you sir."_

_-_

"So the Doctor straightened everything out."

"Eventually. Even when you've lived as long as I have, there are some things that take some getting used to."

"You're telling me!" Jack laughed. "I couldn't understand why I was still alive after the Dalek shot me. I should have been a pile of dust. When I eventually met up with the Doctor again he told me that Rose had used the TARDIS to resurrect me, but that he couldn't explain my Immortality. Given what he told me about you after Constantinople, he must have been lying, but I guess he thought it wasn't his place to fill me in."

"Now, see, that is exactly what I'm talking about. I have absolutely no idea what you just said." Jack grinned. He was really warming to the old Immortal, and knowing how the ancients were fairly flexible when it came to sexuality, he was kind of hoping he might be able to convince his teacher that the Greek method was best. It was funny, he thought to himself, that mankind was fairly open sexually in ancient times, and again in the future, it was just this bit in the middle where they were so goddamned uptight.

"Hey, look it's getting late, have you got somewhere to crash?" Methos looked at his watch.

"Well I was going to visit a friend, but seeing as I stood him up at the castle earlier, I don't think he'd be too amenable to me kipping on his couch right now."

"Great, then you can come back to mine. We'll grab Chinese and some beer and discuss history."

"Make it Indian, more beer and the future and you're on." The two of them walked out of the bar.

"Methos, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." The old man groaned at the terrible joke then, putting his arm round Jack's shoulder, said,

"Jack, I think you may be right."

The L World will continue in Part 6: Living la Vida

http://idontlikegravy. 


	6. Living La Vida

**The L World**

Welcome to the weird and wonderful L World. Absolutely nothing to do with 'The L Word' this is a crossover 'verse, where I realised that I had titled my stories beginning with L. This trend may or may not continue, depends on how imaginative I'm feeling. The stories are all grounded in the Highlander universe initially, then crossing into other shows. Any timeline errors are deliberate or because I'm not that familiar with the show, so sorry. Also, I know how irritating glaring errors of continuity can be, so I've tried to do my best, but if the pesky continuity pixies have struck, there's not much I can do about it, sorry. The story is set in the now, after the events of Highlander Endgame, but will not include anything that may occur in the new film 'The Source' as it is set in a parallel world. There is one rather major plotline that makes this an alternative Highlander universe, if you've read the first story you'll know that whilst it's not swimming in Denial, it's certainly a tributary of it, if you haven't read it and don't know what Denial is, go educate yourself and then come back when you are more enlightened.

Disclaimer: I don't own Highlander or Buffy or any of the characters of Highlander or Buffy, and I'm not making any money out of them, I'm just doing this for the love of the shows and the love of Richie. All rights and ownership belong to the clever people who actually own them, I'm just trying them on for size and I promise to return them good as new.

Warning: There's the odd bit of swearing, but I try to keep it to a minimum.

6. Living La vida

"There's no easy way to tell you this, Daniel. Jack is dead." Daniel dropped into the chair, stunned.

"How?" He looked at the blonde colonel with compassion, he didn't think he'd have had her strength if their roles had been reversed. But this was something he'd have to get used to now. Eventually, Sam, Cameron, even Teal'c would fall to the ravages of time or battle. He pushed the unbidden thought from his mind and focussed on what Sam was saying.

"It was a fact finding tour of the Middle East. Some artefacts had turned up that were related to the Gate and they were there to assess the viability of starting a dig." Daniel nodded as he vaguely remembered reading the dossier on the artefacts. "Their convoy was attacked by a rebel militia. None survived." Daniel nodded absently, thinking of the irony of being killed in a desk job when he had risked himself so many times off-world. Jack would have found it amusing. He was jerked from his thoughts by the Buzz of another Immortal. Sam gave him a questioning look that turned to understanding as he reached for his sword. Pulling her pistol, she nodded to him and he went to the door as the bell was rung. Then there was a familiar knock.

"Danny-boy?" Daniel stared at the door, then at Sam. Nah, couldn't be. It must just be Richie and Daniel's overactive imagination was providing what he wanted to hear. But Sam was staring at the door too. Cautiously he opened the door and there he was, large as life and definitely breathing.

"Sir!" It was Sam who reacted first, lowering her pistol, but not putting it back in its holster. "Daniel, is he?" Daniel nodded, dumbfounded.

"But it's news to me." He stood aside to let Jack enter the apartment. "You'd better come in before someone sees you."

"I'm taking it Carter knows about our…long life-lines?" Daniel nodded "Oh well, I suppose it would have been noticed sooner or later."

"She's a Watcher. My Watcher." Jack appraised Sam after this new information. "Huh, go figure." He flopped down onto the couch and stared at his two friends. "Well are you gonna offer me a beer or what?" The still slightly stunned Daniel went to the refrigerator and got three beers. He handed one each to Jack and Sam and sank into a chair with the third. He leaned forward to ask Jack a question but was interrupted before it left his lips. "Before you ask what you're gonna ask, Danny, just ask yourself, would you have told them?"

"I have." Jack started at this.

"Aw, hell Daniel, why'd you do that?"

"Well, I needed to tell Richie about the SGC so he could be my teacher, and Adam suggested that I should trust my friends."

"Adam? Adam Pierson?" Daniel nodded, "Dammit Daniel, never listen to anything he has to say."

"Well, I figured that someone with his life experience would know a thing or two." Daniel said darkly.

"Possibly, but he would never bother to share it with the rest of us. He's self-serving, always has been, always will be."

"Ah, your acquaintance with Adam is how you were aware of the Watchers' existence. Just how long have you known Dr. Pierson sir?" Sam felt she needed to intervene before something was said that someone regretted. Jack had a mental debate with himself and decided to tell the truth.

"A little over two millennia." Daniel and Sam took a sharp intake of breath and looked at each other.

"So you know he's really Methos." Jack nodded "Just how old are you?" In for a penny, in for a pound, thought Jack.

"Three thousand and fifty, give or take a decade."

"Bit like carbon dating heh?" Daniel grinned

"Wait a minute," Sam said, "You're Angus McNeill aren't you? My god, the Watchers thought you were dead. We lost track of you about ten years ago after your adopted son…o my god, Charlie. All this time, and I didn't recognise you, didn't put two and two together. Unbelievable!"

"At ease, Carter." Jack shot her one of his trademark grins. "I slipped off the radar with good reasons. Reasons you are both familiar with. It was coincidence I met Daniel, but fortune smiled by bringing us together. I was all ready to become his teacher when the time came, but the guy had died so many times without his Immortality being triggered that I figured it never would. But then a couple of months back I read about a strange light show in Colorado Springs. Knowing it had nothing to do with the SGC, and I figured I would have been informed if Danny was dead, I guessed he'd joined the Game. It was my intention to come straight away, but duty called and I was sent overseas. In a way it's worked out for the best, I can abandon the Jack O'Neill persona now and concentrate on Danny's training."

"As I said, I already have a teacher Jack." As if on cue, the two Immortals tensed and turned toward the door as they felt the presence of another, and Richie walked through the door. Daniel had invited him to stay in the apartment when he was in town, and had given him a key.

"Whoa, this looks serious." Richie said, appraising the situation. He was aware that the stranger was Immortal, but was a little confused to find his student and his Watcher having a beer with him. Daniel stood up to make the introductions.

"Richie Ryan, meet Jack O'Neill, sorry Angus McNeill." Richie leaned forward, offering his hand.

"It's a pleasure, Daniel has told me a lot about you. I'm guessing he didn't know everything though, right?"

"Not everything, no. Call me Jack, I never did like Angus." Then he asked Daniel, in Latin, "This is your teacher? How old is he?" Daniel was briefly taken back by Jack's fluency, but then realised that Jack probably knew the language better than he, in fact probably more languages than that. To test his theory, he answered in Aramaic,

"He's only thirty-three, but he's really experienced. Methos and MacLeod trust him." Jack raised an eyebrow at this, in perfect imitation of Teal'c. Richie got the game, although he didn't understand all of what had just been said, so he said,

"Djeden em Goa'uld, meruek?" This had the desired effect, as both Jack and Daniel looked somewhat abashed.

"I'm sorry." Jack said in English. Sam was somewhat relieved to be able to pick up the conversation again, as was Richie, as his Goa'uld wasn't nearly as fluent as his bluff had implied. "I'm just a little over-protective of the little dweeb. I don't mean to imply anything. MacLeod and Methos are both experienced and respected among our kind, so I'm sure you've done an excellent job." Richie took the compliment, and sat down.

"Well my job was made easier by the groundwork you had done. And Teal'c and Cam have been a great help, teaching us both Jaffa techniques." At this Jack rounded on Daniel.

"Just how much have you told him?" he demanded.

"Well it's not like National Security matters to you now you're dead." Sam said, "Sir."

Swords rang out across the mountain lake as the three Immortals fenced with each other. Jack was impressed with both Richie and his teaching skills. The boy showed far more skill and maturity than was usual for someone only in their second decade of the Game. He was proficient in several styles of fighting, including the Jaffa martial arts that he had only learned recently.

Now that he had washed the grey dye from his hair, it was clear to Daniel that Jack hadn't aged since the day they'd first met, and he couldn't believe he'd been fooled so easily.

"People see what they expect to see, Danny-boy." Jack had told him, "It's a good point to remember if you want to survive."

He had brought them out to his cabin, knowing they would not be disturbed. Well, technically it was now Daniel's cabin, as he had left it to the archaeologist in his will, but he didn't think Danny would mind letting him hang on to it a while longer.

At the insistence of Sam and Daniel he had revealed his status to Teal'c and Mitchell, against his better judgement, and the six of them had come for two weeks R&R. He had to admit, it was good to not have to conceal his identity from his friends, especially the original members of SG-1. He was an honourable man, and it had sat heavy on him that he had to conceal his nature from those he trusted and who trusted him.

They wound down the mock melee, with the old man just barely winning. Daniel raised his sword in defeat, and sat down on a deckchair next to Sam.

"Enough!" he cried, "You win, it's my turn to buy the steaks!"

"Excellent." Jack said, steepling his fingers together. Richie recognised the impression and laughed. Jack looked at him. "You a fan too?" Richie nodded "Okay, here's an image for you, Mr. Burns as a Goa'uld." Richie laughed

"Oh my god, yes! Totally!"

"See" Jack said to Daniel, "He gets it." Daniel and Sam both shook their heads and laughed, and the four of them went inside to change for dinner.

The party of six drew a few stares as they entered the steak house, and for once Jack was more concerned about himself than Teal'c, but he knew he was just being paranoid. They took a secluded booth and he ordered the biggest T-bone on the menu. He was impressed when Richie did the same, and even more so when the young man cleared his plate. He'd never met anyone who could match his appetite before. He felt he could become good friends with this young man, which meant he would have to tread very carefully when he made his request. But that could wait for another time, tonight was about good food, good beer, good friends and an all-night Simpsons marathon on cable. Did life get any better?

The next morning, a few hours before they were all going to leave the cabin, Jack took Richie to one side. "Can I ask you a favour?"

"Sure, if I can."

"I'd like you to let me take over as Daniel's tutor." He held up a hand to stop the half-formed protest, "I respect you as a swordsman and as a teacher, and I think you have done a great job. Please don't take this request as personal against you. It's just that I've come to feel great affection for him over the years, and I always pictured myself as his mentor."

"To be honest with you, it's somewhat of a relief. Don't get me wrong, I like Daniel a lot, but I am out of my league here. I wasn't ready to teach someone, even someone as adept as he is. And I've been getting homesick." It had been nearly two months since he had met up with Mac because Daniel was only going off-world for a few days at a time recently, as he preferred to stay on Earth to research some strange device they had found. "Besides, I think he gets frustrated that he can't discuss his missions with me in any detail." Jack smiled warmly at Richie and offered his hand. Richie took it and was surprised to find himself pulled into a hug.

"You take care, youngster." Normally Richie would have bridled at that, but he took it in the affection it was meant. Besides, the guy was more than three thousand years old; to him nearly everyone was a youngster. "And say hello to Methos for me. Plus, if you want a cheap rise out of him, ask him about Salzburg." Richie looked at him, curious. Jack was wearing one of his patented mischievous grins, so Richie returned one of his own.

"I might just do that."

A few hours later, the six parted company. Richie said his goodbyes and made Daniel promise to call him or Methos if he needed anything, before he got on his bike and started the journey home. SG-1 climbed into a government issue SUV and headed back towards Cheyenne Mountain on the promise that Daniel would visit regularly to continue training. Jack looked around at his domain, and sighed expansively.

"Ah. Peace at last." He looked around for a few minutes more before going inside to grab a beer and his fishing tackle.

Translation – "We can speak in Goa'uld if you want" (This is actually ancient Egyptian, not Goa'uld, but Richie didn't know the difference).

The L World will continue in Part 7: Leaving London

http://idontlikegravy. 


	7. Leaving London

**The L World**

Welcome to the weird and wonderful L World. Absolutely nothing to do with 'The L Word' this is a crossover 'verse, where I realised that I had titled my stories beginning with L. This trend may or may not continue, depends on how imaginative I'm feeling. The stories are all grounded in the Highlander universe initially, then crossing into other shows. Any timeline errors are deliberate or because I'm not that familiar with the show, so sorry. Also, I know how irritating glaring errors of continuity can be, so I've tried to do my best, but if the pesky continuity pixies have struck, there's not much I can do about it, sorry. The story is set in the now and near future, after the events of Highlander Endgame, but will not include anything that may occur in the new film 'The Source' as it is set in a parallel world. There is one rather major plotline that makes this an alternative Highlander universe, if you've read the first story you'll know that whilst it's not swimming in Denial, it's certainly a tributary of it, if you haven't read it and don't know what Denial is, go educate yourself and then come back when you are more enlightened.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the shows involved or any of the characters, and I'm not making any money out of them, I'm just doing this for the love of the shows and the love of Richie. All rights and ownership belong to whoever actually owns them, I'm just trying them on for size and I promise to return them good as new.

Warning: This story contains non-graphic same sex relationships, so don't read it if that sort of thing offends. There's also a bit of bad language.

Rating: 12A

7. Leaving London

The dojo was closed for the evening; its only occupants Richie and Duncan, practising hard, sweat dripping from every pore. But for once the two Immortals were neither sparring nor fencing, nor were they practising kata. They were dancing. Richie had developed a passion for flamenco in Paris before the Ahriman business (as they both now referred to the incident if it came up), and despite his protests of two left feet, Duncan had convinced him to take lessons. Their passion for each other helped, overcoming Richie's natural Generation X inhibitions. They both danced the male role, but with their own twist, choreographed by Duncan, crossing the flamenco with a paso doble, a fiery, passionate, duel. As the dance came to a climax, the two men lost themselves to the rhythm, coming within an inch of each other, but never touching. The tension was palpable. "Duende." whispered Duncan. Richie smiled, staring at Duncan with an intensity that could have set the world ablaze.

The tension was broken by the presence of another Immortal. The two stepped back from each other and turned toward the door and were surprised as Xander walked in, supporting a badly bleeding Giles. They rushed forward to assist him, helping to carry Giles up to the apartment.

"What happened?" Richie enquired.

"We were taking out a nest of vamps that Joe had put us on to, but there were a hell of a lot more than our intelligence had reported. Too many for just the two of us to handle." The lift started its journey to the top. "I went down fighting four of them. Giles managed to dust some more before dragging me out to safety. I guess he must have collapsed too. When I came round, we were both lying on the ground. I thought they'd turned me, but then I realised it was daylight. I started to get him to a hospital, but Giles came round and said to come here. He was so adamant, that I did." Richie and Duncan exchanged a glance. "What the hell happened to me? I've had some strange experiences, but there isn't a mark on me from last night. And what the hell was going on with my head when I walked in here? I am having a serious wiggins here." They eased Giles onto the bed and turned to face their young friend.

"You go, you've more practise at it than me. I'll go call Jesse, get him to come and look at Giles." Duncan glowered at Richie, exasperated, as he strolled over to the phone. Mac turned to Xander and motioned for him to sit down, which Xander did, looking from Richie to Duncan, expectantly.

"You're Immortal Xander."

"I'll heal from any injury?" Xander's hand involuntarily moved toward his eye patch, but Duncan gently grabbed him and pulled his hand away.

"I'm sorry Xand, but no. Any scars from before will remain, and we can lose limbs if they aren't reattached during the healing process." A defeated look flashed across the young man's face. "I'm so sorry."

"Well hey, at least now I'll have the sword to complete the whole pirate look right? In the Venn diagram of sexy pirates… me and Johnny Depp." A thought suddenly struck him, "So my parents aren't really my parents. That's what you said, right? All Immortals are foundlings." Duncan nodded, and started to comfort Xander but he was stopped by Xander's huge grin, "Brilliant! Thank god for that!" He suddenly jumped up from his seat as he felt the Buzz again. "That's the feeling isn't it? There's another Immortal coming."

"Yeah, but it's probably just Jesse." Richie walked over to the front door and opened it, confirming what he had just said. "Hey, Jess, the patient is over on the bed."

"Hey. I came as soon as I could. What happened to him?" Richie looked at the others for guidance. Well-practised in covering up vampire attacks, Xander took the lead.

"We were attacked by a street gang or something I guess. He's lost a lot of blood." Jesse moved to the bed and examined Giles' limp form.

"There are several contusions here, he was badly beaten and from these marks, I'd say he was bitten at least twice. He was lucky though, nothing seems to be broken, and there isn't that much blood loss, really. He just needs bed rest and plenty of fluids. I'll prescribe some high strength iron tablets." Jesse pulled a script pad from his bag and began filling it out. "By the way, gang attack? Couldn't you be a little more original?"

Xander looked at Jesse, stunned. "But that's what happened."

"Yeah, a gang of vampires maybe. You can't fool me, I lived in LA most of my life, and I lived for three years in Sunnydale when I was younger."

"Sunnydale? You're kidding me! I'm from Sunnydale!"

"Ahem, before we get into this whole six degrees moment," Richie interrupted, "I think Xander and Duncan need to have a serious conversation?"

"Oh, right. I forgot for a second." Xander turned to Jesse, "Giles will definitely be okay?" Jesse nodded. With a sigh of relief, Xander turned back to Duncan, who led him toward the elevator and back down to the dojo.

"What was all that about?" Jesse asked as he tended to Giles' wounds.

"Giles wasn't the only one attacked tonight. Xander was with him too. He died."

"Oh. OH! You mean that was the first time?" Richie nodded, "Wow, it's lucky he's one of us then." Something in the look on Richie's face made him pause in his ministrations. "Isn't it?" Richie shook his head.

"Giles and Xander are Watchers, but not the same as Joe. You lived in California so maybe you've heard of the Slayer?" Jesse shook his head, "Well she's this girl with sort of super powers that make her able to fight vampires and demons. Giles was the Watcher of the most recent Slayer, but over the years he stopped Watching and started slaying. Xander has been fighting things that go bump in the night since he was in High School. That's how he lost his eye. And now that he's Immortal what do you think he's going to do?"

"Carry on fighting evil."

"Forever."

"That's exactly what I feared might happen." groaned Giles. The two Immortals rushed to help him as he tried to sit up.

"Glad to see you conscious, Rupert."

"Take it easy, you've been badly injured."

"Thank you, but it's not exactly a sensation that's unfamiliar to me. Richie, it's good to see you too. Although I rather wish the circumstance were different. Where's Xander?"

"He's okay, he's downstairs with Duncan, having the talk." Giles nodded.

"I had hoped to avoid this. We weren't supposed to attack them, we were on reconnaissance, waiting for backup, but Xander decided to rush in, the stupid reckless boy."

"Backup?"

"Yes, a couple of … associates, Spike and Angel. Damn, how long have we been here?"

"Not long, but I don't know how long you were lying in the street. It's dark now though." Richie explained.

"Can I use your phone? I really should contact them, let them know where we are if that's okay?" Richie nodded his assent and passed Giles the receiver.

Meanwhile, down in the gym, Duncan was explaining to Xander the intricacies of Immortality that he and Richie may not have mentioned on their trip to London. As he talked, the two fenced in order that Duncan could get a proper assessment of Xander's ability. The young man showed promise, a natural ability, and he was well practised with a broadsword. Although lacking in finesse, he admirably compensated for his disability, and Duncan was sure that with a little training he should live a long life. Suddenly they felt another Immortal approaching, and not from above. Looking to the door, swords still crossed, Duncan sighed with relief as he saw it was only Amanda. Taking his cue from Duncan, Xander too relaxed and lowered his sword.

"I take it this isn't for keeps?" Amanda drawled.

"No. Amanda Darieux, meet Xander Harris. Xander, this is Amanda, a very old" Amanda raised an eyebrow at him, "and very dear friend." Xander shook Amanda's hand and smiled at her. She threw back her most flirtatious grin and to his credit, Xander didn't even blush. There was an awkward pause as everybody looked at each other.

"Well, I'm sure you two have things you need to catch up on, I'm just gonna mosey on up to check on Giles." Duncan tossed Xander the key for the elevator and he did just that, leaving Duncan alone in the dojo with Amanda. He led her over to a bench and sat her down before fetching a couple of beers from the ice box he now kept in the office ready for any unexpected visits from Methos.

"Amanda, there's something we need to discuss." Duncan had known this conversation would have to come sooner or later, but thus far he and Richie had been ducking it. Richie would retreat to his apartment whenever Amanda hit town and stay away until she left. He knew how Duncan felt about her and wasn't about to come between them, but Duncan wasn't sure how Amanda was going to react to the information. "There's no easy way to tell you this, but I'm in love with someone else. Another Immortal."

"I understand Duncan. Hey, we've never exactly had a steady relationship. If you want me to stand aside that's fine." She stood up, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back down, gently but firmly.

"No, no that's not what I'm trying to say. Why don't you ever let me finish? This other Immortal knows about you and that I love you too, and accepts it. We've been together for quite a while now, but we didn't know how to tell you." He paused to take in a breath. "It's Richie." Amanda blinked, in that wide-eyed manner she had that could convey intense anger or innocence or amusement depending on her mood. Duncan wasn't sure what it was at this moment but with a flicker of hope he thought it was amusement. Then she grinned and chuckled before saying,

"I know." Duncan stared at her incredulously. "The way you are around him, it's always been obvious how you feel. Since you've been back from Paris he's been avoiding me, which was a little strange considering I'm the one who nursed him. I put two and two together. It wasn't difficult."

"You knew. But we didn't know." Duncan had that confused puppy look that always made him look so adorable and difficult for Amanda to resist.

"Yes, but you are men. And stubborn, narrow-minded men at that. Women have a sixth sense about these things." She leaned over and kissed him. "I'm fine with it. You can tell Richie he can stop avoiding me. Besides, it's not like I should be jealous. I've already had both of you." Duncan choked on the beer he was sipping.

"You and Richie? When?" Amanda smirked.

"You're cute when you're jealous. It was a few years ago, we were drunk, we were both missing you. It was nothing. I'm not even sure he remembers it to be honest."

"And when are you ever honest?" Amanda gave her best wounded look at that as she sat on Duncan's lap and began to kiss his neck. He took the bait and kissed her back, putting the bottle on the floor and picking her up, carrying her into the office and closing the door.

The following evening, the little group were sat in an empty Joe's to meet with Giles' associates. Jesse had advised that Giles shouldn't be out of bed for another two days, but the Englishman was having none of it, saying that being injured around Immortals made him feel embarrassed. He added that he didn't think that Duncan would want to invite his associates into his home, which struck them all (except Xander) as a little odd, but they didn't press the subject further. They were all seated around a table, chatting amiably, Richie and Amanda having had a little heart to heart earlier where they set things straight between them. Giles and Joe were catching up on old times and Xander and Jesse were swapping Sunnydale stories. Everyone fell silent as the door opened and in walked two men, one brunette, and the other blonde. If it weren't for the lack of Buzz the three more experienced Immortals might have sworn they were Immortal too, as they were both wearing long coats and had the air of men who were older than they looked. Joe got up and went into the back to brew some coffee for everyone as he had a feeling this could be a long night. The two newcomers came toward the table and then stopped a few paces from them, looking suddenly confused. They looked at each other, then at Xander and the other Immortals before throwing a questioning look toward Giles. He alone seemed unsurprised by their reaction as even Xander didn't know why they had reacted this way. He motioned for them to take a seat, which they did, although it was obvious to all that they were on guard. The darker one leaned forward and whispered to Giles.

"What's going on? They all smell like Him. Even Xander. They all smell like the Immortal"

"That's because they are all like him Angel. Even Xander."

"Bollocks." It was the blonde's turn to speak, "I've seen him get hurt tons of times. Even done it meself a few of them. And he lost an eye."

"The epitome of tact as ever Spike. Xander wasn't Immortal then. He became Immortal last night, when he acted like a damned fool and got himself killed and me nearly with him." Xander looked abashed at this but before the conversation could continue Duncan interrupted.

"Excuse me, but it seems that your associates are already aware of our kind. They're clearly not Watchers or they would have known the answer to that question so who the hell are they?" Spike put on his game face and turned towards Duncan, making him, Jesse, Amanda and Richie all leap to their feet and reach for their swords. Xander and Angel simply covered their faces as Giles tried to intervene and explain. After ten minutes or so, once he was convinced no blood was about to be spilled, Angel got Xander's attention and indicated they should go outside. Xander followed him out to an alley. They both stood for a minute, assessing each other.

"So I guess I can't really call you dead boy any more." Xander said. Angel chuckled.

"No, I guess not. Look, I know you and me haven't exactly got on in the past…"

"No I'd say mutual loathing would be about right."

"Well, yes I guess so. I was always jealous of how close you were to Buffy and I'm guessing that was the problem for you too."

"Well that and you being a blood sucking demon." Xander had meant it as a joke, but there was a little too much venom in the statement and it stung Angel, more than he'd care to admit, but he shrugged it off.

"Look, as I was saying, we've never exactly been friends, but well, immortality is a kicker to get your head round, and while these guys seem okay, they're strangers and well I'm not. Oh look I'm never very good at this stuff, but if you need someone to talk to, you can talk to me, okay?" Xander was taken aback by this. Angel had never been one to open up like this; in fact he was usually pretty much all brood all the time.

"Thanks, man. It's a strange offer, but appreciated. Look, I think we better head back…" he was interrupted by the presence of another Immortal. Looking around he spotted a young woman dressed in punk Goth clothing and he idly thought that she and Spike might get on well. "Aw crap." Angel followed Xander's gaze.

"Is she?" Xander nodded. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Thanks, but this is my problem."

"Actually, she's my problem, not yours." Xander turned to see Richie step out of the bar, "An old girlfriend. Go inside and tell Mac that Felice Martins is here and that I'm taking care of it."

"Richie Ryan." Felice snarled, "Well, I came for the Highlander's head, but you'll do for a warm-up."

"And what makes you think it will be that easy? I may look the same as when we last met, but I'm not a naïve teenager anymore, Felice." Richie spat her real name at her like an insult, "You can't trick me or Mac this time. You only have your head because of me. Walk away now and it ends here."

"No chance. I've been practising, learning from lots of different teachers. And then I took their heads. I'm here for MacLeod and I'm not leaving without his head."

"Then you have to come through me." Felice lunged at Richie, an awkward clumsy thrust that Richie easily parried. He noted with distaste that she was using a katana like the one Mac had given her. "I thought you had been practising?" he mocked. She screamed and lunged at him again. This time she was better, but Richie again parried before attacking and driving her down the alley, away from the door to the bar and the street. Richie knew that her anger was her weakness fifteen years ago and it was obvious that was still the case. He used some of the moves Teal'c had shown him to trip Felice and make her fall onto her backside. "You never were particularly graceful were you?" he taunted. This had the desired effect and the now furious Felice scrabbled to her feet and charged at Richie. Richie spun out of the way of her sword, bringing his own around in an arc, and delivering the fatal blow. As he finished turning, to end up facing the entrance to the bar, he saw Duncan stood watching. He grinned at him, "Heh, talk about symmetry." And then the Quickening overwhelmed him. Afterwards, once Richie had recovered sufficiently, they headed back toward the bar. "That night on the beach, would she have taken my head?" he asked, "I would have died before I even had a chance."

"No. I don't think she ever picked up on the fact you were one of us. She was a twisted head hunter, not interested in being a teacher, and my presence would have drowned out anything she might have got from you back then. But if I'd been a few minutes later, you might have become Immortal a year earlier." Richie silently pondered what that might have meant for his life as they walked into Joe's. Then he dismissed the silly thoughts, "If ifs and ands were pots and pans…" he muttered. Duncan smiled at him.

"…then who would need a tinker." He finished. "Where'd you pick that up from? That's an old British proverb."

"Jack and Daniel like playing this game, where they try to outdo each other with proverbs. I guess that one just stuck in my head." He grinned at Duncan, who grinned right back.

"Nice moves by the way. Where did you learn to do that?" Richie laughed.

"Trust me Mac, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

It was decided that as Giles was still in no fit state, and there were such a large number of vampires, Duncan and Richie would accompany Xander, Angel and Spike to the nest and clean them out. They arrived a few hours before sunup and waited in an adjoining warehouse until sunrise to make sure that none could escape. They passed into the occupied warehouse through a hole in the wall on an upper floor and cautiously they fanned out to search the building. There was nothing to be seen or heard for a few minutes until Spike's voice echoed through the building.

"Bugger it! There isn't any bloody one here is there? You scared them all off when you and Rupert crashed their little party. You wanker!"

"Hey it wasn't my fault, Captain Peroxide! If you and tall dark and broody had arrived on time, we wouldn't have gone in alone."

"Oh right, that's nice isn't it, blame the vampires. It's not our bloody fault you nearly got yourselves killed."

"I did get killed!"

"You're still here aren't you?" By this time the others had arrived to find Spike and Xander toe to toe in the middle of the floor. Richie rushed forward to intervene, but both Duncan and Angel held out an arm to stop him.

"Wait." Angel said, "I think Xander needs to do this, work out some issues. Besides, they can't really hurt each other and we can't go anywhere until after dark." Richie looked to Duncan who nodded his agreement. Richie just shrugged his shoulders and the three watched as the Immortal and the vampire launched into an impressive bout of fisticuffs.

It was Xander who had thrown the first punch, and whilst it didn't have the supernatural strength of a Slayer or vampire blow, it left a sizeable bruise on Spike's cheek.

"You little…" Spike threw back a punch, holding back a little, but still splitting Xander's cheek. Xander staggered back a little, and put his hand to his cheek, but it was already healing. "Oh yeah. Come here you little bugger, I've wanted to do this for bloody ages."

The two went at it for hours, knocking each other senseless, then waiting while they healed a bit, and then going again. At one point Xander had Spike on the floor and was kicking him mercilessly.

"This is for Buffy you bastard." Angel knew what that was about and whilst he knew that it was the soulless Spike that had committed that atrocity, the very act of which had compelled him to seek his redemption, he couldn't help secretly wishing he could join in the kicking. He nearly intervened when it looked like Xander might stake Spike, but Spike managed to wrestle it away from him and instead drove it into Xander's chest.

"Let's see how you bloody well like it." Spike said, as he collapsed onto the floor, finally exhausted, letting the stake roll from his hand and across the floor. The three spectators crossed the floor to the combatants as Xander came back to life with the customary gasp for air. Angel strolled over to Spike and offered him a hand which was rudely batted away before Spike changed his mind and accepted the help. Richie and Duncan helped Xander onto his feet and began to walk towards the door.

"It's still light out." Spike called after them. The three Immortals paused.

"We're going." Duncan said, "Come to DeSalvo's Gym, it's my dojo, I'll leave the door unlocked for you. You'll be able to come in because it's the public area." Angel noticed the implication in what Duncan said, but let it go. After all he barely knew them, why should he invite them into his home? Spike had obviously noticed too so Angel threw him a look to tell him to leave it. To his credit, Spike for once decided on discretion, and the three Immortals walked into the sunlight.

"Bloody great. Now what?"

"Well, there are still several hours till sunset, I suggest sleep, unless you have a thermos of blood on you?"

"I can do better than that mate." Spike pulled a hip flask from his pocket and shook it, assessing the contents. He frowned. "Bollocks. Just isn't my day today. Guess sleep it is." With that Angel lay down on the floor and within minutes was fast asleep. Spike lay down as well, but sleep wouldn't come for him. He lay there thinking about how confident Xander had seemed in the fight. Part of it was the knowledge that he couldn't be injured, but there was more to it than that. He was no longer the cock-sure wiseacre high school student, rather a mature, seasoned demon hunter. A grown man, Spike thought idly, and quite an attractive one at that, added a tiny little voice in the back of his mind. Which is exactly where such thoughts should remain, he thought to himself as he rolled into a different position to try to get to sleep.

After a week, Giles was recuperating nicely, and Jesse declared him fit to travel. Both Giles and Xander had been staying at Richie's apartment, and the Englishman was secretly glad to be returning to the land of tea and Marmite and his own cosy little flat where he could have some privacy again. Xander, on the other hand, wasn't exactly sure what his future held, so he went to see Duncan at the dojo. He found him and Amanda up in the apartment and joined them for a drink.

"Um, so Giles is ready to go back to England and Jesse thinks its okay. But I guess you think I should stay here to train with you right?" Duncan looked at Xander and smiled.

"Well, I thought you would rather stay nearer to London, am I right?" Xander nodded, "We've been discussing your situation, and Amanda has agreed to teach you. She lives in Paris so I'm sure you can come to some arrangement that allows you to learn the Game and continue fighting evil." Xander visibly brightened.

"Really? That's fantastic! All my life, I've been this ordinary guy, you know, surrounded by extraordinary people with all these cool powers, and I felt so useless. All I ever did was fix furniture. And now I'm like them, now I can kick ass."

"Hey, slow down there!" Duncan exclaimed, "A well trained Immortal is better in a fight than a mortal, but you're not Superman. And you're not like Buffy or Spike or Angel. Yes you heal faster than they do and you die harder, but you can still get killed. All it takes is a demon with an axe and it's good night Xander and no encore."

"Yeah, I know. It's not like I'm going to go out looking for a fight, but now I don't have to run and hide when the big bad comes knocking." Amanda looked at him coolly.

"I can see we are going to have a lot to discuss young man."

Xander looked up and noticed it was getting dark.

"I'd better vamoose, G man wanted to cook a farewell dinner and I promised I'd pick up a few ingredients for him. I'll swing by tomorrow and we can discuss my French Exchange program." He went downstairs to the dark dojo and headed to the door, but there was a man standing in front of it. "Spike? What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you. Rupert said you might be here." He started to walk slowly toward Xander, looking directly into his eyes as he spoke. "I was really impressed with the way you handled yourself the other day. Even though I was on the other end of it. It's clear that you've become a first-class demon hunter."

"Thanks, but I've just had lots of practise. Usually on dates." Spike chuckled, but then he looked uncomfortable.

"I shouldn't have come. This was stupid. I'll go." He turned, but Xander grabbed his arm.

"What is it?" Spike turned back, his vampire face showing, and Xander took a step backward.

"Is this all I'll ever be to you Xander? Another demon? Are you just waiting for excuse to stake me?"

"Is this about the other day? If so, I'm sorry. It was nothing personal; I just had a lot of issues I needed to work out. It's true I haven't always exactly been your biggest fan, but that was a long time ago. Feelings change. People change."

"Not people like us."

"Maybe not outside, but inside we can change like anyone else. You certainly have. You went looking for redemption, you went to extreme measures to get your soul, to become worthy of the person you loved." He took a step toward Spike, "I think that was an amazingly brave thing to do." He reached out his hand to stroke Spike's cheek and he changed back to his human face. Spike grabbed Xander's hand and pulled it away from his face.

"Don't make one of your bloody jokes. Not about this." Xander looked Spike directly in the eyes.

"I'm not joking." he whispered, as he leaned toward Spike and kissed him. They broke apart, then Spike kissed him back, wrapping his arms around him. Slowly, gently, Xander pulled back from him. "I need to go. Giles needs groceries." Spike nodded and kissed him once more before breaking their embrace. Then, arm in arm, the two of them walked out into the night.

The L World Will continue in Part 8: Learning Curve

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	8. Love em and Leave em

The L World: Coda

This is the end of Part one of The L World, it continues with Part Two which can be found in the Stargate SG1 category because there is slightly more Stargate in the second half and I wanted as many people to read this as possible ;)

I hope you enjoyed the ride so far and will come back for more.

Feedback is always actively encouraged.


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